


Original fiction

by Bacner



Category: Original Work
Genre: Africa, Allosaurus, American alligator, Anchisaurus, Antarctica, Apatosaurus, Arctic, Asia, Black grouse - freeform, Brain, Brown bear - freeform, Ceratosaurus - Freeform, Chaos, Cow, Dinosaurs, Dire hawk, Domestic donkey, Domestic rabbit, Dunkleosteus, Elasmosaurus, F/M, Frost Dragon, Gen, Greek Myths, Hippopotamus - freeform, Jurassic, Krynn, Lark - Freeform, Lion - Freeform, Liopleurodon - Freeform, Lynx - Freeform, Majungasaurus - Freeform, Maybe some interconnection, Meal, Megapnosaurus, Merrow, Moon, Nephilim, Nightingale - Freeform, Not Interconnected, Ocean, Orangutang - freeform, Original work - Freeform, Poetry, Rain, Red fox - freeform, Reindeer - freeform, Rhinoceros - freeform, Sea troll, South America, Styx dragon, Tarterian dragon, Tylosaurus, Wild boar - freeform, Woodpecker - freeform, acacia - Freeform, attempt at a proper story, badger - Freeform, baobab, brainstealer dragon, brown dragon, carnotaurus, chicken, chimera (D&D), cliches, cockatoo - freeform, crocodiles - Freeform, death dog, desert landwyrm, dilophosaurus - Freeform, domestic cat, domestic dog - Freeform, domestic horse, domestic pig, fiend folio, girtablilu, hare - Freeform, jaguar - Freeform, madagascar, merfolk, monkey - Freeform, mountain landwyrm, mud golem, owl - Freeform, penguin - Freeform, polar bear - Freeform, probable hiatus, puma, red deer, rope golem, sand dragon - Freeform, spinosaurus - Freeform, steel dragon, stegosaurus, stone giant, storm giant, sun - Freeform, walrus - Freeform, water drake, water lily, whale - freeform, world building maybe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:00:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 55
Words: 28,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22458364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bacner/pseuds/Bacner
Summary: Just a piece of original fiction for a change. Isn't very likely to be updated soon.
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: all characters are mine, actually.

…When it all began, I ran into Essa back in the corridors of ChronoDune™ Inc. as I was walking along to my port, and Essa was just…running. Whatever it was that has happened to her, back in the sector of Peryton, it was enough to get even through her seasoned skin.

Make no mistake, I have _views_ about Essa – for someone from Peryton she is certainly subdued, but then again, it is a practical view to take within ChronoDune™ - we tend to conflate our seasons together: one moment it’s winter, the next – summer, then it’s autumn, and finally we’re back to winter again. What has happened to spring, where have we misplaced it, I do not know, and I am afraid to write to the upper management to ask. Actually, we are all afraid – unlike our counterparts from Peryton, who actually dwell close enough to the actual Olympus to learn what rumors are coming down and who sometimes can actually ask the upper management to learn as to what is going on down, or rather – up there for real. Hm. Maybe I could ask Essa about spring? But first-

“What got you so worked up?” I asked even as I helped her up: she was not running this fast, and she did not smack into me that hard, but she still lost her footing and almost fell; certainly lost her tablet and almost smacking her head against the wall… “Hunting wolves are on your trail or something?”

“More like a swarm of smarmy vultures, ravens and magpies, making all the noise,” Essa replied bitterly. “There are five major tears in the narrative that we can determine, and a big metaphorical grizzly bear sniffing around one of them already, and what do they do? They dismiss me!”

“Well, naturally,” I pointed out. “You’re a lab worker; you do all the theory and everything else is done by other people – field agents, mostly, but still. The end. You rang the alarm bell, your hands and conscience are clean, what is missing?”

“I don’t know,” Essa said bitterly. “Maybe it’s the matter that Shawn has given me an exercise bike for a birthday gift-“

“Wait,” I raised my hand. “Your birthday? It was yesterday or tomorrow or today or in the recent chronological vicinity?”

“Yes!” She said excitedly. “It was! It was my birthday, and I wanted us to go to Kims’ department to petition us for a baby – instead, he got me an exercise bike!”

I thought this over. On one hand, I barely knew Shawn – I barely know Essa, and I knew Shawn less than that, on the other hand, male solidarity and all, and I barely knew Essa, so why should I get involved in their mess? Essa – and Shawn - did not have a child yet. Bully. As a determined bachelor this was one topic that I had no qualifications to discuss; plus, when I received _my_ appreciation award it was a treadmill of some sort, and I certainly got my mileage out of it until time had run out for it – literally – and I had the option to apply my superiors for higher-ranking missions to receive enough of… everything that I needed to fix the damned device and give it a new life. I am a chaotician. I do not do predictable and straightforward, and I work at the Xaos sector of ChronoDune™ because it suits me – and vice versa. My superiors can certainly foresee what choice I make and can try to influence me… or not. Case in point – my defunct treadmill. It makes a most formidable conversation piece ever.

…Oh wait, I do not do conversations, outings and innings, and so on, and so forth. Long live the treadmill, put otherwise, and I continue to do my missions as I always did – for the sake of chaos rather than money or other manifestations of order…

“Right,” I told Essa. “An exercise bike? One that’s got a limited amount of life, or existence, or something-?”

“Yes,” Essa nodded solemnly. “It just eats all those credits-“

“You’re coming with me.”

Essa stared. She never looked particularly owlish – she did have contact lenses rather than spectacles, for example – but right now she did do her best to look like an owl right now.

“Why?” she finally managed.

“Well, how are you going to start maintaining your new acquisition?” I raised an eyebrow. “I know a bloke who got a Peryton-level TV – it was dead before the year was out and he needed to acquire a lot of things to resurrect it – and it cost money, and it means working overtime, emphasis on _working_.”

“Which is what I _do_ ,” Essa snapped.

“Yes, but field work costs more,” I did not back down. “Think you will be able to keep it running on your current salary? And for long? Or are you just going to throw it out once it dies?”

Essa stared at me for a good long while. “You’re from the Xaos sector, aren’t you?” she muttered. “I cannot see the future… the time lines are all tangled…”

“Is it one of the five tears that you’ve been talking around?” I produced the address of my destination – the one that I have been assigned to earlier today. I should have been getting there by now, but time has a very fluid meaning in the corridors of ChronoDune™, even moreso than space does.

Essa took a good long look. “Maybe,” she drummed her fingers. “Perhaps. Can we go there and see for ourselves what does it look like?”

And so off we went.

/ / /

…Now, as far as my missions go, this one started at a fairly mundane place – a garden enclosure of some rich- someone rich, (and did I mention that I really do not like the rich?), complete with a pond. The pond was huge, with reinforced walls and appropriately oversized lily pads floating on top of the water, with large, pale pink flowers blooming alongside them. Very lovely.

I pulled out my packet, one that was given to me for the mission, and scattered its’ contents into the water. I beckoned to Essa, and she followed suit. Where did she get her packet? I always have several spares, whenever I get a partner. I would like to claim that I am an incredibly complex and unpredictable character and what else have you, but the fact is that ChronoDune™ demands that everyone and everything, (we have some odd types working here, I can promise you), has it in extra – just in case a mission that is supposed to be solo becomes, well, not a solo one. Have I mentioned that me working at ChronoDune™ is based largely on the benefits of me being an agent of chaos, not on any other reason? No? Well, here you have it, then – I work at ChronoDune™ because it permits me to be an agent of chaos, not for any other reason. Remember that!

…Meanwhile, Essa just mutely followed my lead – first with the packet, and then-?

Then we just sat down and concentrated. Yes, slipping into a trance is not easy, even when you got your helmet on your head, but we managed. The miracle! We managed, and followed the flakes as they sank into the water and dissolved there – with our minds. And then we got contact.

A pair of eyes set in striped black and yellow armored skull blinked, and a crocodile-like reptile began to rise to the surface even as its body began to be subtly restructured, albeit temporarily. The second reptile in the pond – bigger and heavier, clad in duller scutes of dull and light grey – also blinked and followed its neighbour, flicking its tail almost lazily but catching up to its’ smaller neighbor almost instantly, shifting and transforming bodies irrelevant.

Slowly, we surfaced to the surface, amongst the giant lily pads. “Now what?” Essa muttered to me via telepathy.

“Now we chaos-“ I didn’t finish, as one of the locals – a human, thank Chaos – stumbled through the trees, visibly bleeding and collapsed, fading fast.

“Casey!” Essa yelled out to me, even as we broke contact with the nano-modified reptiles and raced to the victim. “He’s dying! Please help-?” she trailed away, seeing the first aid kit in my hands. “Um-“

“You’re so lucky that Chaos is benevolently inclined towards him,” I muttered as we dragged our saved person into our time-travelling apparatus.

“Of course-“

“Plus, it’s one of us – there’s no orderly reason as to why a person with a wound done by an Austro-Hungarian Hussar saber has ended up here, in a completely different time and place.”

Essa just stared – this is no lab work, of course, but this was also the deep end, true – and followed my lead.

TBC?


	2. The Badger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief drabble about a badger.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any badgers or rights to any of them.

... After a long time spring came, eventually, and the snow did melt. A badger came out of its’ barrow, though it still was sleepy. It sniffed around, shook its’ heavy winter coat, looked around with its’ beady eyes. Only a distant cousin to the bear, it’d hibernated the winter away all the same. The badger scratched at its’ sides: it was time to moult, but right now it just shrugged the kinks from its’ spine.

And then the badger went off to hunt - for frogs and beetles beneath the roots in the moss. The badger hunted, ate and drank -and then it went back to its’ dry home, dug deep beneath the surface.


	3. Behold the Boar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Behold the wild pig!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own any pigs, wild or otherwise.

Behold the boar, the wild pig!

Throughout the wild woodlands it roams wherever it wants. If it wants acorns, it gets them. If the boar wants to wallow, it does. The boar will swing its’ head and twisted tusks and it’ll uproot anything - period.

The wild boar is even more badass than its’ feral Razorback cousin. It will swing its’ tusks like an axe to uproot trees, it will cut down a wolf, swinging them like twin sabres. Even a wild brown bear won’t mess with the boar without a good reason!


	4. Lynx

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble on a lynx

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: don’t own any lynxes.

A lynx lurks in a dark forest, next to a sylvan path. Though a cousin of the house cat, it’s more of a large dog in size. A lynx’s tail is short, its’ ears got tufts on tips, its’ hide is mottled. This lynx in question is lying on a tree branch, waiting... Don’t go past this tree, or the lynx will get you. It will lunge at anyone, straight from the tree!


	5. Brown bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble about a brown bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any bears, brown or otherwise.

Once upon a time there was a bad-ass bear.

Why he was a bad-ass? Just look at him eating raspberries- he wasn’t taking one berry at a time, slurping down an entire bush at once, only bare branches were left!

Aren’t you greedy, Mr. Bear! Aren’t you formidable!

Beware, though- no one is insured from a stomachache in the wild.


	6. Red fox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another Drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any animals.

A fox was hunting during winter - for hares, mice, rabbits, etc. Once upon a time, it came across a hare, and promptly began to chase the latter. The hare fled past a stump without paying attention... and a really big great horned owl was sitting there. It saw the hare and took off, slamming the mammal into the snow, pinning it down. Only... this wasn’t the Mesozoic, The age of reptiles and birds, for the fox, which had generated its’ own burst of speed, had half-leapt and half-slammed into the owl, knocking it off the hare.

A great horned owl is just as formidable as its’ relatives, the eagle and the snowy owl are, but the red fox got a really good grip this time...

When the noise ended, the hare looked out of its’ snowy pit and the first thing it saw was the red fox, busy plucking and eating the big bird. It shot the hare a look over a bloody muzzle, and the hare fled, leaving the fox in the field by itself with the prize. It may be the Cainozoic now, aka the age of mammals, but the mammals weren’t quite equal to each other either.

End


	7. Hare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to drabbles, it looks like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any hares or anything else.

In winter, a hare’s coat is both warm in texture and white in colour. As a consequence, it saves the hare both from frost and from hunters. Winter snow is as white as a hare’s coat. Try to find it! And while you do that, the hare will flee and be gone.

Left to its’ own devices, a hare will chew branches, nibble the bark, however bitter it will be. It is waiting for the warm summer. For the summer is a time of plenty, especially for food. You are free to choose. If you want - choose the clover, if you want - choose the fresh grass, any flower...

...that said, the canny hare should leave human gardens alone, no matter how tempting the local carrots and cabbages may be!


	8. Owl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let’s try a more coherent story once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I Don’t own any owls or anything else

Once upon a time, when a red fox and a hare were busy with an eagle-owl, a different bird, a great grey owl, was sitting on a different tree at a different spot where the forest met the open field, and it too was busy hunting.

Any owl is meta - they got soft feathers, silent wings that make no noise whatsoever; their talons are twisted and sharp- no one can escape from them, not a mouse, not a squirrel, not a sleeping bird. This particular great grey owl was hunting mice. 

...It is still late winter and mice are hidden from sight by a thick layer of snow, but an owl’s hearing is sharp enough to penetrate it, and the great grey owl has specifically long legs to reach through the snow. There! There a mouse is scurrying. The owl spread its’ wings and launched a spectacular aerial attack right through the snow.

The snow exploded. This particular mouse made its’ winter home in a bear’s den, and the owl, unwittingly, scored a perfect hit on the bear’s nose. (It was hard to reach, but those long legs and sharp talons are good for something).

The still mostly asleep bear wasn’t amused. With one shake of its’ massive head it was free, with one snap of its’ huge jaws it snapped the owl up and sank back beneath the snow to wait for the proper end of winter. The end.

PS: Oh, and the mouse was in another corner of the den, sleeping its’ own nap in its’ own home, lined with the bear’s fur because it was small enough to get away with this - but that’s another story.


	9. Black grouse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Once more, a Drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any bird or anything else here.

A black grouse male is a very handsome bird. Its’ tail is shaped like a lyre, the bird itself is black, save for the really red brows; it got short legs, all covered in feathers as if they were boots to prevent winter chills.

During the brief winter day, the black grouse sits on a birch, plucking its’ seeds; when it wants to sleep, it just falls, head first, into a snow bank! It rotates there a couple of times, and makes a snow room, where it rests for the night.

...And in spring the black grouse cocks show-off. They hop, fight and sing songs. One may warble like a lyre throughout the woodland! And another may coo like a dove!

End


	10. Brown dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something different - a write-up of the D&D brown dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone.

BROWN DRAGONS

Being flightless, but endowed with supreme burrowing skills, the brown dragons tend to dwell in deserts and semi-deserts, where they hold at least advantage over their flying cousins. Despite their ferocious intelligence, the brown dragons know how to avoid the other dragons as well, and consequently there's many a female of blue and brass dragon-kind that returned one day to find her eggs crashed or her hatchlings slaughtered.

Brown dragons' lairs are usually a series of tunnels and caverns, dig deep underground, but with a series of boltholes that lead closer to the surface instead. Brown dragons tend to avoid particularly rocky or stony soil, so consequently they're found in various dungeons only rarely (unless imprisoned there by the Cult of Dragon or a similar organization).

**Brown Dragon Identifiers**

A brown dragon's face usually bears an expression of single-minded ferocity and almost never-ending hunger. A brown dragon's head is elongated, particularly its jaws, with a series of bumps and hornlets located at its' back and lower jaw. The brown dragon's neck is long, powerful, and bumpy: before it attacks, the brown dragon folds its' neck in a letter S-position, and releases it like a spring when pouncing on prey or foe.

The body of a brown dragon is well-developed, with long, powerful limbs, big, slightly flat feet and a powerful tail that is very effective as a slapping weapon. Its' wings, however, are nothing more than flaps of skin, useless both for flying and gliding, nothing more than skin-covered bones. There is no explanation why the brown dragons' wings got reduced so completely, but some scholars believe that the wrath of the chromatic dragons' supreme deity, Tiamat, has something to do with it.

The scales of a wyrmling brown dragon are of a sandy colour, matching completely with the surrounding sands of the desert. As the dragon ages, its scales appear to bleach, until the oldest wyrms appear to be almost white in colour.

**Habits**

A brown dragon tends to eat everything that comes across its path, from livestock to beholders. Usually, it attacks from below, from beneath the cover of sand, trying to pin its prey with its jaws and then drag it underneath the sand, where it'll suffocate. If it cannot do that, then the brown dragon will attack its prey directly, biting and clawing, slapping with its tail and using its breath weapon in close combat.

Brown dragons are not particularly discriminating when it comes to treasure: they often pile it all together: gems, coins, magical artefacts, etc. However, they are aware of every single piece in it and will pursue whoever stole from them until either they or their robber is dead.

Brown dragons tend to be not very social, but mating pairs often mate for life, and their children often remain in touch with them, treating their parents with difference and sometimes even coming to their aid when summoned (especially when fighting other dragons is involved). The female brown dragon lays her eggs in sun-warmed sand, and both parents guard their clutch ferociously, retreating only if overwhelmed completely (and sometimes not even then). The offspring begin to make their own lairs by the time they're juveniles, but remain in touch with their parents for the majority, if not the rest, of their lives.

The brown dragon is highly aware of its surroundings. They have a highly developed tremorsense, enabling them to pinpoint most attackers at a distance of up to 450 ft. The older brown dragons are powerful spell-casters, and even their innate spell-like abilities are dangerous: old and older brown dragons are particularly fond of summoning air elementals to aid them in battle if their foe is particularly tough. Their wings are useless even for attacking, but they can disembowel a horse with just one bite.

Despite their ferocity, most brown dragons are not unreasonable creatures and can be persuaded into a temporary alliance, especially if horsemeat is involved. Some of them even display neutral tendencies, and can release their victims to go, especially if bribed with something edible or valuable for a life in a desert. Most, however, prefer to eat their prey rather than converse with it, so if going against a brown dragon, one must prepare for some heavy losses in a sudden battle.

_(This brown dragon was based on the version appearing in "Monsters of Faerun" 2001)_


	11. Woodpecker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to animal-themed drabbles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t own any woodpeckers or anything else.

What is this loud drumming in the forest? Who is drumming so loudly here? Why, there they are, all mottled, with a red cap. It landed onto a pine tree, grabbed the bark with its’ talons, supported by the stiff tail, and began to jump upwards. It found a spot where there was a grub beneath the bark, and began to drum with its’ beak... It ate the grub, flew on, drummed on the bark some more... - it flew away even further, its’ drumming is barely audible now... It still sounds like a drum, but that’s no drummer, but the woodpecker bird.


	12. Lion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s all about the lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any lions or anything else.

Beware, ye wild horses the zebras! Beware, ye speedy antelopes! Even ye beware, great-horned buffalos!

The lions are abroad!

Thunder seemingly thundered, rolling through the Savannahs and scrublands . The lions Roared, the lions snarled. Everyone else hid.

Aside from the elephant, the rhino and the polar bear, the lion is the king of the beasts. Their teeth are strong, their claws are sharp, and the mane is thick.

Who’ll get eaten tonight, you know?

PS: Remember the lynx from an earlier chapter? The lion is its' distant cousin. Which is the better cat, though? Do tell!


	13. Penguins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about them penguins?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any penguins or anything else.

As far as penguins go, they are a bird breed apart. They fly through the water, not the air. They dive and flap their wings under water so fast, that they are able to catch up to fish. On land, penguins too move in a peculiar manner: they slide and walk horizontally. From a distance they look like people in black and white suits.

Once, a ship came to shores of a land that might have been Antarctica or Africa, (there are penguins in Africa too). The crew wanted to go ashore when they saw that an entire army assembled there! They hesitated, but still moved closer. Suddenly, as if on command, the entire army dove head first into the water. Only then did the crew realize that they were dealing not with other people, but with penguins.


	14. Of whales and co.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An actual attempt at an original story here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: here, actually, all characters are mine.

Once upon a time, there lived a merrow in the northern sea, and she had a mermaid cousin, with whom she didn’t get along.

“How will I ever get myself a handsome fisherman, if you are scaring them all away?” She would ask when the two would meet... occasionally. As far as the two cousins went, the mermaid was the more feral one, and both cousins knew this. Thus, the mermaid was dismissive of her cousin, until she wasn’t.

“You’re lonely?” She suddenly asked during one such occasion, starting them both, if truth be told - the lives of the two cousins rarely crossed and they had nothing to talk about... usually. “Fine. Go to the Whale bay tomorrow - there you’ll meet someone, I’m certain,” she muttered, and with a flick of her tail, she was gone.

The merrow thought this over: she and her cousin didn’t get along, but nothing more, so why not to follow her advice? Plus, there were no bad rumours about the Whale bay, just some odd ones, and so the merrow decided to cooperate, and swam to the Whale bay to reach it by tomorrow...

...As far as the two cousins went, the mermaid was faster, but the merrow had more endurance, and so she had no problems in reaching the Whale bay by the designated time. What she found there was a large but obscure bay, rocky and out of the way, which provided shelter both from sea storms and prying eyes. “A girl could enjoy living here,” she muttered to herself.

“Glad that you approve,” someone sarcastically muttered, and the merrow was grabbed, unceremoniously, across her waist. “Kara, I told you- wait. You’re not her.”

“...” A merrow is stronger than how they look, when compared to humans; right now, our heroine was grabbed by a very large sea troll, and wisely said nothing, she just Made some vague noises, lest the troll ripped her in two.

“Crossbones.” It was Kara and her partner, a merman of her own species. “Behave. This is Kara’s estranged cousin, and we’re in a special place.”

“Fine,” the sea troll reluctantly muttered, as he left the merrow go. The latter wasn’t done herself, (her cousin set her up with a sea troll, really?), when she felt something big move through the water and decided to cooperate. This was the right choice, for thisly she got a prime spot to observe the whales arrive, for this was their birthing ground, (hence the bay’a name, you know!).

For some time the foursome observed the semi-sacred event, (except for krakens and their kin, most sea-dwellers hold the whales in high regard for their strength and wisdom), and once it was over, the whales began to sing, in gratitude, for keeping the sharks and orcas out. (We’re talking killer whales here and not orcs - orcs don’t like water actually). 

The whales sang of the north, where it’s snow and ice all year round, of the south, where it’s hot constantly, and of everywhere in-between. And then they were done, they said good-bye in the whale tongue, and left for the open sea, from which they came.

The foursome were left to their own devices once more.

“Now what?” The merrow muttered to no one in particular.

“Let’s go to our place and celebrate!” Her cousin said brightly, and somehow everyone complied and did just this, but that’s another story.


	15. Cockatoo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of the cockatoo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything here.

And now this is the cockatoo. This parrot bird is sitting on its' tree, playing with its' crest, opening and closing it, opening and closing. In-between this activity, the variant parrot is entertaining itself with sound mimicry: it oinks as a wild pig in the forest, growls like a wild beast in its' lair, and whistles like a songbird on the tree across. The cockatoo is a great imitator!..

Like the rest of the parrots, the cockatoo can learn to speak human languages - from English to Russian to French and beyond. Whether or not it will cognitively understand as to what it is speaking, is another story.

...There was once a cockatoo that learned even to sing songs, so this bird clearly got talent, if nothing else!


	16. Hippopotamus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble about the hippo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any hippos.

...A hippopotamus hates to walk around on its” stumpy legs. It gets sunburned very easily. But when The rains come - beware. The hippopotamus will raid crops, and what didn’t get eaten will get trampled instead. And then it’s off to the river - not unlike its’ whale cousins, the hippopotamus is an aquatic beast.

...Once the hippopotamus reaches water and relaxes, it will prance around - it’s much more maneuverable in the water, than on land. It will swim and dive down to the river’s bottom, and then it will open its’ maw, huge, like a briefcase, and make a sound worthy of a river horse.


	17. Orangutang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble about a certain orange ape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any apes.

An orangutang is an atypical great ape. It lives in Asia, not in Africa, as the other great apes do. It is reddish in colour, and not black. It lives on tres and not on the ground. But like all the other great apes, (and also humans), it’s very smart.

Many people in non-European countries have myths and stories about people, who used to live like people, until they stopped. For one reason or another they abandoned the human society and went to live in the wilderness, where they became apes (and monkeys). It’s just a myth. But it’s still impressive.


	18. Monkey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, about monkeys.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any monkeys.

Just like their ape cousins, monkey look like people - wizened old people, that is. However, their hands look quite human, while their feet... look like their hands. Monkeys can scratch, and grab things, and fight with each other using all four of their limbs.

...All day long, the monkeys travel through the tree tops. They cry, and they fight, and they jump from tree to tree. Woe betide, if such a horde comes across someone’s garden! They will destroy everything and scatter it around; they’ll not so much eat, ad ruin everything.

(PS: so, who do you like better - apes or monkeys?)


	19. Reindeer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble about reindeer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any reindeer or anything else.

In the Arctic, it’s snow and ice for half a year, and swarms of biting gnats for the other. You cannot reap hay there, or sustain horses and cows, especially in winter. Only the reindeer can function there. It knows how to shovel snow aside to get to the moss below.

Whose milk people drink in the North? Reindeer’s.

Who pulls their sleds? The reindeer.

Whose meat do they eat? See above.

People can’t survive without them in the Arctic.


	20. Walrus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Drabble for the walrus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any walruses or anything else.

A walrus is a big and heavy beast. It looks like a bag of blubber, but got plenty of brawn too.

A walrus has two ivory tusks jutting from beneath the bristly moustache. It got flippers instead of feet, too. A walrus is an aquatic beast.

A walrus will dive deep and graze on the sea floor like a cow on a meadow. It eats seaweed and mollusks, and once it’s done, the walrus will emerge, grab an ice floe or the shoreline with its tusks and get out of the water completely. It will lie down and sleep.


	21. Polar bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drabble on the polar bear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't claim any rights here.

The polar bear is the king of the Arctic. His hide is warm, inaccessible to frost. The thick hide doesn't get water-logged. The polar bear is unaffected by frost, by snow storm, by wind, by icy water.

The polar bear wanders hither and yon through the ice and snow; when he catches something - a fish or a seal, it eats them and immediately goes to sleep, right there on the ice.

And when the polar bear wakes up, off it goes again. It looks around, it smells around, whom to catch, whom to eat again. It dives well, runs fast, swims easily. It won't stay hungry for long, it will eat something.

PS: Do you remember the brown bear from an earlier chapter? Which of the two bears comes across better?


	22. Rhinoceros

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Briefly back to the jungle, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any rhinoceroses.

In the jungle, branches are breaking, trees are swaying. It’s the rhinoceros, one of the biggest beasts of the modern world, passing through . It’s ignoring thorns and spikes, bushes and stumps. Rhinoceros’ hide is thick, like true armour - arrows will break, spears bend. Only bullets can get through.

...As a result of that, the 5 modern rhinoceros species are varying from endangered to extinct in the wild. The horn size varies from species to species, but all of them are hunted for it, regardless of where they live, in Africa or Asia...

It isn’t surprising, then, that the rhinoceros is a suspicious animal, with an explosive temper!


	23. Dogs, cats, and what else have you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another try at a bigger story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: all of the characters here are original.

_Once upon a time, there was a dog, who lived in the kennel. Though the kennel had no furnace, the dog's fur kept him warm, and since he did a good job of keeping various thieves and blackguards out, he was well-fed as well..._

"Screw this!" said the dog as he looked over the author's drabble take of him. "I'm a dog! Man's oldest companion and best friend! Surely, I could get something bigger than just a drabble - a story, maybe, or a sequence of them..." He looked around, as he scratched himself behind an ear in a thoughtful way. "Maybe I could do some sort of a crossover, even..." 

The dog looked around; he sniffed around and he walked around the enclosure of his drabble, which was supposed to be a yard. He tested the borders of his drabble, examining the entire fourth wall concept, until he got the idea of the lay of the land, so to speak, and he also tried to figure out as to where his story was going to go, because he also felt kind of lonely, (domestic dogs _are_ social animals, as is their close cousin the grey wolf, and don't like to be by themselves, period), until he finally made a decision.

///

_Once upon a time, there was a cat, who lived in the house. She caught a mouse in the cellar and was rewarded with milk, while her kitten, who was too young to appreciate milk properly - her mother could always give it to her fresh - was busy playing around the house, being a nuisance to everyone else, but a lovable one..._

...And then the window into their room slash house opened wide, and the dog looked inside. "Hello there, neighbor!" he spoke in a particularly dopey way, which was typical of overly enthusiastic canines. "Doing anything currently?"

"Hello!" the kitten called back cheerfully. "Hi there, neighbor! And what are you doing?"

"Young lady!" the mama cat was far more defensive and less enthusiastic. "Behave yourself! And you," she turned to the dog, "what are you doing? The human owners will catch you at any moment-"

"Nuh-uh," the dog didn't back down. "There are no humans, not right now - the author didn't put them into their drabbles, not yet! Anyways, I am going to break borders through our original fandom and another one - could you two please come along with me? It'll be lonely on my own-"

The mama cat looked decisively unimpressed by the dog's plea - cats and dogs don't constantly fight, but neither do they always get along, plus unlike dogs, cats are individualist creatures and don't do large social gatherings...unless they want to, (and there's catnip involved. When there's catnip involved, all bets are off). 

"I don't know, mister," the kitten spoke up suddenly. "Mama doesn't really like to travel and to have adventures. Maybe you can come in and play with me - I mean, with us, instead?"

The dog thought this over for a bit. "Sure!" he finally agreed, and jumped into the house through the window, right onto the carpet, where he gave himself a good shake, shaking himself clean. Well, cleaner. The kitten giggled and imitated him to an extent; the mama cat just stared.

The dog stared back. For a while the two grown-ups just looked at each other, clearly trying to establish some sort of a telepathic communication slash argument. The kitten just looked at them, feeling kind of worried - she didn't like it when the grown-ups fought. 

"So where are we going?" the mother cat suddenly changed her tactics.

"Yay! We're going on a trip!" the kitten mewed enthusiastically. "Thank you mama!" and she hugged her mom.

"Yes, well, even a trip is better than having our... neighbor here," the older feline mewed. "Also, where are we going?"

"Oh, I got it all figured out!" the dog replied brightly, as he reached out and pulled the fourth wall between this original fandom and the next one...

///

"...Wow, where are we?" the kitten mewed delightfully as she pranced around the grassland - literally. Well, no - literally speaking they were in a savanna, complete with long grass and trees that were more tropical than the ones that grew in the forest that was located beyond their village...

"In Africa," the dog said brightly, as he sniffed around one of the trees in question. "Smell, or see, this one? It's an acacia tree-!"

"Yay!" said the kitten and immediately began to climb it. Her mother was far less amused.

"You!" she told their new acquaintance. "You! You man! Do you know as to who lives here?"

"Your relatives?" the dog suggested brightly, as he pointed out to a lion in the distance. (So far, the latter was more interested in a herd of zebras and was ignoring the disturbance, not that the smaller mammals minded that, king of the beasts and all). 

The mother cat looked at the king of beasts in question and her ears went flat. "You!" she switched her attention back to the dog. "You! You bachelor! You bachelor man! You self-designated bachelor- dog-! You!"

"Mama!" And the kitten (of whom the mother cat had kind of forgotten, cough), fell from an acacia branch - she didn't have too much experience at climbing trees yet, and right onto the dog.

There was a pause as the trio tried to get their bearings together, because reasons. "See, mommy? I landed on my feet, as a big cat!" the kitten said brightly, switching her mental gears really easily, and doing her best to sound innocent, too.

The mother cat wasn't impressed - mothers often aren't. That said...

"Right," she spoke finally. "Let's go and walk around here for a while - gently. We can play and all, but do so quietly, and without making a commotion. Understood this, both of you did?" she asked, sounding a bit like the older version of Yoda, (not the new baby one). 

Instead of commenting on this, however, the other two just nodded in understanding, and this was that: the not exactly dynamic trio went on for a walk through the acacia grove and had a lot of adventures, both here and elsewhere - but that was another story.


	24. Rabbits, pigs, and so on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Continuing the story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

_Once upon a time, there was a mother rabbit, and she had two little bunnies..._

The mother rabbit in question was not happy. The dog in the backyard was scary enough, (especially for a little rabbit), but the presence of cats was something else. True, the older feline preferred just to sit on the kennel roof, while her kitten played with the dog, but a mother rabbit is a worry-wart and couldn’t help herself, safety of an enclosure or not.

“Shouldn’t something be done about them?” She asked her neighbour, (a domestic pig, incidentally).

“Feel free,” the swine replied, as she went through a hole in the fence. “Personally, I am off to talk to my wild cousins - good luck!”

“Aren’t you worried about the humans-?”

“Silly rabbit - our story has no humans, at least not so far!” Commented the pig and left, leaving the rabbit family behind.

The rabbits just looked at each other, but before they could reach any conclusion, in popped their wild cousin, the hare.

“Yo! You!” He called out to the cats and the dog. “Where’s the lynx from our plot line?”

The mother cat just jabbed one of her paws in the direction of the hole through the fourth wall, (from the previous chapter).

“Is she coming back any time soon?” The hare pressed on.

The mother cat gave him a flat look.

“Oh good,” said the hare, “since I was worried.” To further emphasize his relief, he turned around and jumping into the rabbits’ enclosure. “Hey there, cousins,” he told them brightly. “Want to hang around?”

The bunnies looked at their mom. “Fine,” their mother relented. “But let’s not get carried away, or our swine neighbour will come back or something!”

“Done,” agreed the hare, and the foursome went to the local vegetable garden, (which was located not far from the pigsty, actually), but that was another story.


	25. Donkey, horse and so on

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The adventures continue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

…The donkey stood in the overgrown field. Somehow, he got to be tied up, even though there were no humans around.

“Hello, Mr. Donkey,” the kitten said cheerfully, even as the other animals held back due to the donkey’s incessant cries of “Hee-haw!”. “Are you hungry?”

The bigger animal actually stopped shouting and gave the kitten a look. “...Shouldn’t the two of you be inside the home, anyhow, or has the author decide to put humans into our story after all?” He finally asked, somehow sounding more British than the other animals did, (they sounded more American).

“No, but if you give the girl a ride I’ll set you free anyhow,” the dog replied cheerfully, instead of the kitten.

The donkey gave him a flat look: “I like to see you try,” was what he said.

The dog exchanged looks with his new friends. “Do it,” the mother cat finally said. “We might as well see beforehand.” So the dog complied.

...The leather cord burst with a snap. The donkey came free, and began to prance around, channeling his inner horse. (The horse in question was actually nearby, having some sort of a race with the hare and his rabbit cousins - who knows why?) The dog backed down, wincing, and actually looking hurt. The mother cat rolled her eyes, muttered something about men in general, and began to lick the dog to make him feel better.

“Mr. Donkey?” The kitten asked again, sounding insistent.

The donkey stopped prancing like a colt and gave the trio a thoughtful look. “Fine,” he replied at last. “A promise is a promise, after all, even though I am rather hungry...”

“Oh men,” the mother cat sighed, as she went through the hole in the fourth wall and rolled several baobab fruits briefly later. “There! Will they do?”

The donkey ate the fruit. “...Right,” he said some time later and carefully allowed the kitten to climb onto him. “Let’s give you a ride, shall we?” And this was what he did, while being gentle, and keeping on the horse - but that’s another story.


	26. Chickens, cow and etc.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The story continues...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: all characters are still original.

Sadly, everything must come to an end, and that included the kitten’s ride, as it began to rain.

“...Right,” said the dog, after the four of them, including the donkey, looked into the house, and decided that going in there was a bad idea, because reasons. “You two Want to Wait it out in my kennel?”

The mother cat actually had no problems with that, but-

“Can we join in?” The hare suddenly asked, startling them. “Our youngsters don’t do the rain so well either, and the missus has views about the enclosure in the rain...”

Before either the mother cat or the dog could reply, the horse did, (and in a British accent for some reason):

“You all can stay in our stable instead; the two of us actually need to have a private talk...”

Since the rain was turning out to be a brief but a strong one, the smaller animals readily agreed and in they went, leaving the hoofed duo outside.

“Sorry for not freeing you earlier,” the horse awkwardly told the donkey.

“...The only reason as to why I am not going there are them,” the donkey pointed to a clutch of chicks, swarming around the mother hen, as she ushered them into the currently empty kennel because of the rain. Somewhat surprisingly, a black grouse cock was helping her with that.

“Glad to see that he is settling down - maybe,” said a cow, startling the other two. “Nice to see that the author is getting their shite together in regards to our story.”

“You’re not connected to Deadpool, are you?” The horse skeptically asked.

“Nope!” The cow lied through her teeth. “Now what about that hole in the fourth wall?”

“Why should we tell you? You ignored us until now!”

“Well...” the cow glanced inside the house, where the lion and the lynx from the earlier drabbles were having tea - apparently the author was in a somewhat “Animal Farm” state of mind. “I was actually looking for someplace more sane-“

“Excuse us,” the donkey and the horse told the cow and went inside to talk to the other animals about that - but it was another story...


	27. Dilophosaurus' hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Something completely different and unconnected to the previous long story. This time, we turn towards dinosaurs. Kind of Jurassic Park franchise inspired, I guess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own any dinosaurs, avian or otherwise.

The chase was long and very lively. The Dilophosaurus, which became independent only a little while ago - until recently, he had lived with his mother, and fed and hunted alongside her, but now it was time for him to become an independent grown-up - was fleeing quite quickly from a herd of Anchisaurus, a species of pro-sauropod dinosaurs. At this moment in time - it was the early Jurassic, around 200 MYA - the pro-sauropods were only humble forerunners of the great reptilian giants that would arise on the planet 50 million years in the future from now, but speaking of 'now'? The Anchisaurus herd numbered easily a dozen dinosaurs, and the Dilophosaurus was on his own.

...True, under normal circumstances, the situation wouldn't have been too difficult, the numbers wouldn't have mattered: a Dilophosaurus would ambush the pro-sauropods with their attack and the dim-witted herbivores would flee, while the theropods feasted. The Dilophosaurus of this story did exactly that, but the Anchisaurus herd by accident fled in his direction, and now he had to run away instead.

At the edge of his sight the Dilophosaurus, (unlike the later theropods - Allosaurus, Tyrannosaurus - the Dilophosaurus' eyes were located more to the sides of the head), noted some movement there and instinctively jumped in this direction.

He made it just in time. A pack of Megapnosaurus, smaller distant cousins of the Dilophosaurus, appeared on the scene: apparently, the nominal pack leader tried to ambush the bigger carnivore, while the latter was distracted, and the rest of Megapnosaurus followed... The leader had missed, it had only stirred up the rest of the pack in vain, and confused the Anchisaurus even more: the pro-sauropod herd sharply shifted the angle of their race and fled in a different direction...

And the Megapnosaurus looked around and were confronted by the Dilophosaurus, which had recovered from his fright, listened to the noises in his stomach, and realized that he was hungry - and therefore angry. Megapnosaurus numbered many, Dilophosaurus - only one, but he was the bigger and stronger dinosaur here, and in the early Jurassic, when the dinosaurs were only beginning to evolve into the upcoming lords of the planet, this was enough. The Dilophosaurus charged at the nearest Megapnosaurus and tore into it literally, eating it while the smaller theropod was technically still alive. The remaining pack of the smaller carnivores fled...

...Many millions of years later, when the paleontologists, who were running the dig, made a discovery - petrified tracks of pro-sauropods, and of one or two species of theropods, plus theropod, (of single or several specimens?), bones scattered all over the territory in question. The discussion about just what had happened here went for a long time...

End


	28. Sand dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the brown dragon earlier? This is the sand dragon write-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Out of all the true dragons, the sand dragon is one of the least known. This powerful dragon lives in the warm, and even hot, wastelands of the world, in environments such as deserts and steppes and prairies. Like its cousins – the brown and the brass, the blue and the red and so on – the sand dragon grows in strength and size and power as it ages, from a tiny hatchling, to a giant-sized great wyrm.

The sand dragon is decisively chaotic on the draconic axle of good and evil; it is always unpre-dictable, and also is a loner, unlike some other true dragons. It is intelligent – more so than a white dragon is, for example – and is capable of complex social behavior and interactions, espe-cially when a male and a female sand dragons are courting each other, but otherwise it prefers to stay away from other intelligent creatures and live in its’ network of lairs and tunnels; sometimes, if a sand dragon does feel lonely, it may bring a colony of vermin – even giant vermin, such as giant ants or some similar creatures – to live alongside it, and flourish, while the sand dragon feeds them scraps of its’ meals and feeds its own ego.

…Like the other true dragons, the sand dragon has a dragon-sized ego, but unlike, say, a blue or a red dragon, the sand dragon is aware of this and adjusts its behavior when dealing with ‘lesser creatures’ accordingly. Of course, it is never known as to just how it will actually adjust the atti-tude, but that is another situation entirely.

What is almost always certain is that the sand dragon confronted by a PC party is a loner; very rarely it will have its partner around, and maybe some of its’ offspring – no more than 6, but usu-ally no fewer than 3. This will make any situation only more complex – interacting with a single sand dragon is hard diplomatically; several of them is more like impossible, especially since the sand dragons will always drag the discussion in different directions either for fun or because of their egos – not even the sand dragons themselves know which is which.

…On the other hand, the usual interactions between sand dragons and the ‘lesser creatures’ are straightforward: the sand dragons raid them. Mostly for food, for while the sand dragons can survive on almost anything in their wasteland homes, they prefer to feed on meat and similar sub-stances, usually animals, but anyone can go in a pinch. They do not dismiss any treasure either, but do not collect it as intently as some other true dragons do. (They do not mind being bribed with treasure, however). This is usually where the PCs come in.

The sand dragons are intelligent creatures, and unpredictable, but they are not evil, not as the chromatic dragons are. They do not like making elaborate schemes and tend to live ‘in the now’ without making many allowances or having many concerns for the future. Of course, since they are dragons, and dragons of the sort that begins to be very large from the young adult age to older ones, there’s a good reason why they don’t have many – few creatures can defeat a sand dragon as soon as it becomes an adult or older, and as the sand dragon ages, the number of the creatures grows fewer yet. Most of them are other true dragons – the sand dragon prefers to avoid the blue dragon, but it will do its best to drive the brass dragon away, if the two live in close proximity to each other.

…However, the PC party that is likely to confront the sand dragon in your game is unlikely to have any dragons among their number; there may be half-dragons, but most half-dragons aren’t as impressive as their dragon parents are, not at first anyhow, so the sand dragon isn’t likely to be impressed by them, (unless it knows their dragon parent and suspects that the half-dragons are on its’ behalf), so here’s what one should know about confronting sand dragons:

\- They are burrowers and can move almost as fast under sand as they do above it. Given their affinity to their wasteland homes, sand dragons are unlikely to go aboveground unless the PCs drive them out, but will prefer to stay beneath the surface, and attacking the PCs from below.

\- The sand dragon does not like to use spells, but it got an impressive array of spell-like abilities to use before it utilizes its’ spell repertoire. Even just a juvenile sand dragon can use the haboob spell-like ability at will, and as the sand dragon grows older, it acquires more impressive spell-like abilities yet. However, it can use them only a few times per day, or only just once per day, so it prefers to save them as a coup de gras after wearing down its opponents with haboob and its breath weapon.

\- The sand dragon’s breath weapon is a cone that deals bludgeoning damage, (in game terms). The sand dragon prefers to use it as often as possible, so the PCs should have good reflexes and good reflex saves to half the damage at least. Any fight with a sand dragon will turn into an en-durance fight, with the sand dragon liable to break and retreat whenever it strikes its’ fancy. Unlike the brown dragon, with which it sometimes gets confused, the sand dragon can fly, and will do so, if necessary, or if it decides to change tactics and attack the PCs from above instead, so the party should prepare for some of more traditional dragon tactics and technics; unlike other true dragons, the sand dragon doesn’t often snatch or rend its opponents, but it still can do so, and its tail slap isn’t something that can easily be shrugged off.

…And so, this is the sand dragon. It embodies the desert – its’ relentlessness and unpredictability, its’ harshness, but sometimes – its’ life-giving oases. It most certainly isn’t a good dragon as the metallic dragons are, but it can be reasoned with, and negotiated, and sometimes – even be-friended, though that usually ends badly for one of the parties involved. It can also be a good final boss monster for your PCs’ desert-based campaign.

End

_(The sand dragon is based on D &D 3.5 e. 'Sandstorm' 2005 book)._


	29. Desert landwyrm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remember the two dragons from before? Here's their cousin!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything still.

Second only to the mountain landwyrm in size and strength, the desert landwyrm is a patient, evil beast and a very powerful dragon. Usually, it is found only among sandy deserts, where their yellow-brown coloration creates a perfect camouflage; to increase it further, the desert landwyrm often half-buries itself in the sand as well to better launch its sudden ambush attacks.

This creature is a loner, but not because of food requirement – for its gargantuan bulk a desert landwyrm can fast for a long time – of its temper. This neutral evil dragon-kin barely tolerates its mate during the brief mating season; when it is over, the smaller desert landwyrm leaves as quickly as it can.

3 to 6 eggs are laid and hatched in about 18 months. The female keeps an eye on her clutch, but leaves the incubation to the solar heat: the eggs are buried on an appropriate depth in the sands and clay for them not to be baked or fried. After several more months the young hatch, dig their way to the surface and scatter, before their mother finds and eats them.

They stay together for the first few years of their lives, but as they grow in size and strength their relationships fray and they eventually establish territories of their own, independent of each other, or die in the process.

A fully, or even half-grown desert landwyrm has few enemies. The blue dragons, of course, are the foremost among them, using their breath weapon and wings to rain death upon the desert landwyrm from above. However, a sufficiently big and experienced desert landwyrm can utilize its sandstorm attack to blind and ground a blue dragon, where the fighting will continue on a more equal level than most blue dragons would like. (Brass dragons, it should be noted, do not even try to challenge a large desert landwyrm, but prefer to stay out of its way, or – hire adventurers.)

In some parts of the world, where deserts meet plains, the desert landwyrm may encounter its smaller cousin – the plains landwyrm. One on one a plains landwyrm has no chance of defeating its’ desert cousin, but a pack of them, numbering from 3 to 6 plains landwyrms (and sometimes even more) can easily drive a solitary desert landwyrm away. However, the truth is that the two relatives encounter each other only rarely; the plains landwyrm find the sands of the deserts too loose for running, and the desert landwyrm finds the grassy land of the plains too hard to dig effectively through it, and thus they avoid each other’s habitat and each other.

However, in the north, where even deserts may get snow in winter, the desert landwyrm may meet another one of its cousins – the tundra landwyrm. Only slightly smaller than the desert landwyrm (and still much bigger than their plains-dwelling cousin), the tundra landwyrms prefer to hunt in pairs, pinning down their game and draining its blood. If a desert landwyrm is sufficiently sluggish and sleepy, the tundra landwyrms may overpower even it. That, however, happens only rarely – not only the tundra landwyrms dislike venturing so far down south even in winter, but if a desert landwyrm isn’t sufficiently sluggish and sleepy from the cold, it will strike back, driving off or even wounding its tundra-dwelling cousins.

Beyond other dragons, the only enemies’ desert landwyrms fears are flash floods and adventurers. Both strike unexpectedly, without much warning can overpower any, but the biggest desert landwyrms and are often accompanied by brass dragons, who try to utilize their breath weapon and wings while the desert landwyrm is at a disadvantage and cannot rear up to snatch the smaller dragons from the sky.

For the adventurers’ part of the conflict, acquiring the back up of a brass, or even a blue, dragon is one of the best advantages when fighting a desert landwyrm. These gargantuan beasts might be slow, and rely on their frightful presence to intimidate and shake-up their opponents beforehand, but they are also immensely powerful, their jaws and claws pack powerful bites and punches, capable of breaking backs and caving ribs, and their sandstorm ability can blind and weaken their smaller opponents enough for the desert landwyrm to deliver a final blow, so sand goggles are also necessary.

As are food and water supplies. Desert landwyrms often lair in very desolate places, not just due to their depredations, but also initially, so a chance of foraging (unless you are a dragon that can eat inorganic material) is very slim.

Due to their gargantuan size, desert-related adaptations and immense physical strength coupled with the frightful presence, desert landwyrms must be confronted only by the most experienced and battle-hardened adventuring groups; anything else will most likely be suicidal.

_Desert landwyrm first appeared in 3.5 edition of Draconomicon, 2003_


	30. Water drake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another D&D monster write-up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapter.

By the standards of the dragon-kind, the elemental drakes are something of an enigma – nobody knows for sure what to make of them. On one hand they clearly demonstrate the dragons’ elemental tendency, actually taken to extreme: besides the elementals themselves, few creatures have closer ties to the raw elements (and paraelements) than the elemental drakes. On the other, the elemental drakes fail to demonstrate any of the ‘true’ dragon’s powers, such as powerful breath weapons or their aptitude with arcane magic. This makes many dragon scholars wonder, or even assume, that the elemental drakes are a side branch from the main dragon family tree, and one that split off fairly early in the dragon evolution, so to speak.

(It should be noted that some exceptional elemental drakes may invest in psionics, and often achieve a fair amount of proficiency with them; more on that later.)

As for the water drakes, they are some of the better-tempered elemental drakes: they do not purposefully seek their ‘lessers’ to despoil or dominate, and would rather be left alone, if given a choice. They also spend less time sucking-up to more powerful creatures, such as sea serpents or topaz dragons, and are more inclined to deal fairly than their relatives – fire drakes, ooze drakes, etc. They tend not to attack without provocation either.

That is not to say that a water drake won’t attack if it thinks that it can get the upper hand over its opponent quickly enough, but this still happens less often than in case of other elemental drakes.

The other main difference from most of other elemental drakes is the water drake’s tendency to bear live young, rather than eggs: the females of this species give birth underwater, and their newly born offspring already can breathe underwater, fly, swim and even move on land. They do not take care of their young, though, so many of the newly born water drakes perish from all sorts of creatures, from black dragons and dragon turtles to giant sharks and octopuses.

In combat, a typical water drake’s tactics are simple: grab a creature and pull it underwater (or out of water) until it suffocates. If a creature is amphibious, or too big to be pulled under (or out), the water drake goes into a fury, biting, clawing and tail slapping its opponent, until it the latter is overwhelmed; however, if the opponent is too formidable (a dragon turtle or an adult sea serpent) the water drake will flee instead and fight only if cornered.

If a pair or a larger group of water drakes is encountered instead of a single specimen, this tactic does not change, save that the water drakes attack en masse without any coordination or coherent utilization of their drenching power – the power to extinguish non-magical fire sources. Then again, any fire on the Elemental Plane of Water usually is magical, making this ability of the water drake useless. On the Material Plane, near coastlines and islands, it is more so, but many of the water drakes encountered there are exceptional specimens: older and bigger than most of the water drakes (advanced to at least 19 HD) and are often trained psionicists, favoring the telepathy discipline.

Consequently, they are usually more formidable than their smaller cousins are, and often prefer to attack from a distance, using their psionic powers instead. However, they are also more reasonable and are more willing to negotiate than their younger relatives do, as well.

Overall, a water drake is a typical monstrous denizen of the depth – not the biggest or strongest, and certainly not the meanest. One on one it may provide a challenge, but a group of well-prepared adventurers will usually cause it to flee. This makes it a well-suited monster to be put against a low-level group of adventurers, however, and it should be used accordingly.

_The water drake first appeared in the 3.5 edition of Draconomicon (2003)._


	31. Dinosaurs of the Morrison Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another try at a coherent story, a stand-alone this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone or anything here.

**End of the Jurassic, 150 MYA**

The end of the Jurassic. The heat in the Morrison Valley. Slowly, shaking the earth with their heavy tread, go the current lords of the planet - the sauropod dinosaurs. Many of the dinosaurs are known for their great size, but the sauropods, even when put against them, look like real giants.   
The Sauropods that have come and went back beyond the horizon are Camarosaurs. At 15 m in length they are not the longest of sauropods, there will be (and there are) dinosaurs that are larger than the Camarosaurs are, but they are not yet here; however, the Camarosaurs have also disappeared right now  
However, who is here? A nine-meter male Stegosaurus, for example. He went into the channel of a dried up river and strenuously dug in it, digging up water, or at least - wet soil.   
The Stegosaurus is built like a bus, or even like a tank. On his back are plates, on his tail - spikes, a battle mace: just try to without touch! Only the head is a letdown: it is a small one, and looks at the world with a dark and dim view, without much interest in anything. Right now, though, the nostrils are flaring: the Stegosaurus smelled water.  
He sniffed. He dug. Hard to say if that is dirty water or wet dirt, but the Stegosaurus is glad: he got on the knees of his forepaws, and began to drink it greedily: in the heat of day, any drink is good news.   
Though he was thirsty, he was not alone for long: the Stegosaurus heard the trampling of legs, he jumped onto his own legs, began to look around, waving his tail-mace, sniffing the enemy and looking out.   
But no, there is no one, only a family of Dryosaurs stood nearby, waiting for their turn for water.   
A Dryosaurus is small, the size of a human, and agile, and with big attentive eyes, not like the Stegosaurus, but rather the opposite. Both dinosaurs from the family of ornithischians, but long ago, in the depths of centuries (but most likely at the end of Triassic and the beginning of Jurassic), they divided: the ancestors of Stegosaurus remained quadrupedal, covered with armor, heavy, and the ancestors of Dryosaurus remained bipedal, lightweight runners.   
... Moreover, the Stegosaurus has not let it go, his head looks around, and the tail is waving more and more: do not approach, watch out! The Dryosaurs themselves became worried, looked around: where is the enemy, where does it come from?   
From the ambush, that is where. He crept up via the coniferous grove and the steep riverbank, a six-meter dinosaur – the Ceratosaurus. He crept up, prepared an ambush, waited for the moment. And he waited, but now he is charging!   
And the Dryosaurs fled from him. Even faster. These herbivorous dinosaurs know that if they run away from the Ceratosaurus for 100-200 m, he will not pursue them anymore, will fall behind them – he is too heavy!  
Boom!   
The Stegosaurus, for all these events, had his own point of view – albeit a nearsighted one. His nose is sharp, he smelled a predator, but as to who exactly ran past him, the Stegosaurus did not understand. He took and swung his tail instead - right onto one of the Dryosaurs. The latter was knocked dead at once: the tail of the Stegosaurus has four spikes, each 60-90 cm in length, and the force in this tail is considerable: if the Stegosaurus did not kill the Dryosaurus with a spike, then he just killed the smaller herbivore by slamming it into the river channel.  
And the Ceratosaurus was right there. Keeping one eye on the Stegosaurus, the other - on the escaped (and survived) Dryosaurs, he picked the dead dinosaur up and swallowed completely. And then he went about his business.

/ / /

The surviving Dryosaurs ran far away, though not for long - they are light-legged. They ran into a grove, lay down in the shade and lay down there - tired and hungry they were.  
And then the earth went shaking!  
These are the Camarosaurs; they came out of the horizon, and into the grove. They are hungry, too. However, for them this trouble is easily corrected: their heads are level with the crowns of trees; they came up, and began to pick foliage and needles from the trees.  
An appetite of a Camarosaurus is excellent, but its teeth are flawed: each tooth is not a tooth, but a chisel. Such teeth do not chew anything, here are the Camarosaurus do not chew to begin with: whole their food is swallowed: their bellies will digest anything, plus, in advance, they’ve swallowed river stones slash pebbles - all for better, faster, easier digestion.  
... And the fact that they have food dropping from their mouths, it is not really important for the Camarosaurs: the sauropods are stupid, even by the standards of dinosaurs.  
However, the Dryosaurs are actually quite smart: they jumped onto their feet; they ran up to the Camarosaurs, their "crumbs" the Dryosaurs ate until they were sated, although they still want to drink.  
And then the earth is shaking again!  
This is one of the Camarosaurs, a little lower than the others in height, could not completely reached the crown of the tree, and so it stood up on the hind legs, and put the front legs onto the tree - and it broke!  
... A little Dryosaurus was not crushed, by the way. They ran away from the potential danger, again to the dried up river, they closer, began to look.  
No problem. No one. The Ceratosaurus is gone, his lunch has been digested, and the Stegosaurus has gone too – he had drunk his fill, apparently. Only on the horizon, something is swirling and it is not the long-awaited clouds that may finally on the way, nor just some pterosaurs’ flock.  
However, the Dryosaurs are still afraid, even though there is no Ceratosaurus - what if someone new will come up? Moreover, they still want to drink...  
Therefore, they came up with an idea: they started drinking one by one. Some of them drink from the pit that the Stegosaurus had made, others stand at the top, look around the neighborhood, to see if the enemy is waiting.  
No problem. No one. Only for a moment, a shadow closed the sun and a weak breeze blew. The Dryosaurs grew alerted. The breeze blew harder, began to turn into the wind - and it blew away the Dryosaurs away – they ran away, i.e.

/ / /

... And in the evening, it rained.  
The stengers of the heavens opened up, and everything in the area is blue-black in color, only lightning the white, and thunder rattles-up accolades. The Stegosaurus woke up, his tail waved, the dinosaur cried and coughed: new time is coming; the Camarosaurs are gone back over the horizon.  
But the Apatosaurs are coming out from behind the horizon. A Camarosaurus is 15m long and an Apatosaurus is all 23. Up to the crowns of trees, their heads they do not put, at the level of shoulders the food is found. However, when your shoulders themselves are at five to six meters in high, is that not something?  
There are the Apatosaurs, Earth is shaken as they move, every dinosaur in this herd weighs 16 tons - no wonder they are still nicknamed ‘Brontosaurus;, thunder lizard: when such a lizard will knock foot on the ground, what will come, if not the most thundering thunder?  
Even the Stegosaurus heard it, turned, and trod from the grove: this is a battle he cannot win, and he does not need it: Apatosaurs are peaceful dinosaurs, and they eat other food than Stegosaurus does, it is more high-growing, things that the Stegosaurus cannot get - and there is no need. The rains have come, the time for abundance has come!..  
The Ceratosaurus heard to the heavy nose of the Apatosaurs’ steps. He got up on his hind legs, and roared low and long, forget the Stegosaurus! This roar is not simple: the Ceratosaurus is glad for his territory: if other Ceratosaurs decide that this dinosaur is weak, they will come to his territory, will take it away. It is unbearable for this Ceratosaurus, so he roars.  
However, there are other predators in the Jurassic period that can eat the Ceratosaurus himself. It is unbearable for the Ceratosaurus, too, and he roars for another reason, too. Moreover, those predators are here already. They have followed the Apatosaurs.

/ / /

All night it rained, and the rained washed the sky clean. By morning, the sun woke up and the whole plain lit up. And there, everywhere, are fresh greens, but there is no grass: not yet had it appeared on the planet. However, ferns and horsetails, cycads and ancient conifers, are found in abundance. True, those that got under a Camarosaurus tooth or paw will not be helped, but the other plants bloom and thrive.  
The Stegosaurus saw, or rather – smelled it. Blood flowed into his plates on the back, he twitched them, his feet stomped, he spun, began to blow-cough with his throat pouch: where are you, ladies and girls? Au! The Bachelor is here!  
Female Stegosaurs’ had not yet appeared on the horizon, only the Dryosaurs ceased grazing, stared at the Stegosaurus’ theatrics – with one eye. With the other eye, they looked out for enemies, where is the Ceratosaurus?  
And he is already here, on the other side of the Apatosaurus herd. With one eye, he squinted at Dryosaurs, with the other - on his enemies.  
And the enemies are already here, after the Apatosaurus herd they came. Torvosaurs they are called and Edmarkias: Of the Allosaurus, they are distant relatives. Allosaurs on the average in length are 10 meters, and Torvosaurs - 11 meters, and they be stronger, perhaps, than the Allosaurs are, and the Ceratosaurus does not even come close.  
The Apatosaurs do not care about all these meters: they are even larger than any of their neighbors are, even than the Camarosaurs, and on the brains’ standard – they are even dumber. All they care about is what they can eat: when they are this tall and heavy, the Apatosaurs should eat all the time, because they roam all the time; if they had lived settled lives, all the local vegetation would be eaten and the sauropods themselves be dead in a matter of days.  
The Camarosaurs, by the way, also roam for the same reason. Right now, they are not seen here, they have gone over the horizon, for fresh food.  
Moreover, the Torvosaurs, too, roam, after the Apatosaurs’ - they eat the sauropods. Moreover, they also eat other dinosaurs, one of them saw a Ceratosaurs, and it lunged at the smaller carnivore  
And the Ceratosaurus also ran - either after the Dryosaurs, or just to run away. The Dryosaurs fled away from it, under a herd of Apatosaurs’, running fast, fast! The Ceratosaurus behind them also ran too under the herd, even faster! And one of the Torvosaurs behind him also ran under the herd, but... At an angle.  
A Torvosaurus is bigger and more massive than a Ceratosaurus is: at a straight distance, it would have caught up with the smaller dinosaur via acceleration, but at an angle - no, this does not work, there maneuverability is not the same. Here it got stuck in the Apatosaurus herd and became crashed.  
And the Apatosaurus stood on its hind legs, as a Camarosaurus would stand in front of a tree and stepped on the Torvosaurus! It crushed the theropod almost in half, and then left, along with the rest of its’ herd.  
The rest of the Torvosaurs lingered: they ate their late relative. Cannibalism this is called, or - meat is meat!  
Even if it is the meat of a relative.

/ / /

As to where the Dryosaurs have ran away, the Ceratosaurs has no idea - in the muddle of sauropod legs and among the new greenery these dinosaur hid themselves, the theropod sought them and failed to find. Actually he did not even try, just lay on the ground to catch his breath.  
Suddenly - rustling in the thickets. Who is there, in a word? The Ceratosaurus rose to his feet.  
And this is a charmer of his kind; you can see she came to his roar. The Ceratosaurus saw her, immediately jumped to his feet, waved his tail, nodded his head, and they became acquainted. The new friend is only glad of that, in response to him she waves her head, tail too, thus the acquaintance took place, and the brave couple went into the bushes as to not annoy the Stegosaurs, who are nearby. The latter are actually standing on the bank of the river (no longer dried up, but even very full-flowing), each other is sniffing the other, and they are wagging their tails  
In short, spring has come and life is continuing! 


	32. Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just some sort of a drabble, about blue and dinosaurs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: don't own anyone.

Blue color is the fifth color. Blue is the color of water, of weather, of power of the storms, of water above in the air, and below, right beneath and among the ground, as it flows and spreads and saturates. 

Blue is the color of life, of nourishment, of plentifulness – of time when there is plenty to drink and plenty to eat, as the formerly dry earth is fertilized by water coming from above and flowing through it, even from below. Blue is the color of death, of storms, of destruction – of time when torrential rains and pounding waves come onto land, washing it away, washing it all away into its dark, sunless, still depths.

Blue is the color of Spinosaurus – glaring eyes and snapping jaws from beneath the water’s surface. It may not be as popular as the big duo – Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, but it is just as formidable as both of them are, just as big as either of them, if not bigger. Like them, it too has killer jaws, but its’ jaws are fish traps, they catch slippery fish, not cut and dry terrestrial animals; they hold, but they neither crush nor slice. Unlike Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, Spinosaurus has big forelimbs as well; well-developed forelimbs that can both slide with powerful claws and help the hind legs to move Spinosaurus on the ground; unlike Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, Spinosaurus is no giant killer bird, but a crocodile, a crocodile that thinks that it is a sailfish – and is as deadly as both a crocodile and a sailfish are.

Blue is also the color of Elasmosaurus – the archetypical sea snake…just treaded through the body of a sea turtle. Like Spinosaurus, this marine reptile has glaring eyes and snapping jaws, but it never comes ashore; its’ entire life belong to the color blue, to the sea, which it surfs, rising and falling with the crests of the waves, as winds and rains pelt it from above and lightning flashes amethyst on its back and flanks. Its’ head and jaws are a perfect fish trap, Elasmosaurus’ entire life is spent in movement, a constant journey for food and mates – it even rests on the waves, never seeking dry land. Spinosaurus is a river, treacherous and unpredictable, yet constrained by the dry shores; it might flood and overflow them for a while, but it always returns from whence it came. Elasmosaurus is a sea, just as treacherous and unpredictable, yet dry shores never con-strain it, they only border it, and what will be, will be. Que cera – cera.

End


	33. Paints & Colors - green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A brief drabble on the color green.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own anything here.

Green is the fourth color. It is the color of forest, of vegetation, of abundance and life – but also of excess, of rot, of overwhelming and death. 

Green is the color of plants and all things growing, rising towards the life-given sun until it reaches to its maximum point – and beyond, obscuring the sun and the sky, turning a friendly competition into anything but, casting deep shadows over the land, so that nothing new can grow and everything living stagnates in the middle of luxury.

Green is the color of Allosaurus – glaring eyes, slashing teeth beneath delicate crests, pointed at you through the tangled trees of the dense forest, through which his slim body can slide with ease. Though nowhere as prominent as the big duo – Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, it is a formidable carnivore on its own, slipping and sliding between trees, shrubs and vines, snapping with its’ teeth, slashing with its’ claws, harassing and haranguing its’ prey until it gives up and dies. Allosaurus is not a straight-up fighter as Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex, but a sly rogue, a strategist, often bringing down prey that is as tough or tougher than it is – a giant killer bird that pretends that it is a tiger.

Green is also the color of Tylosaurus, the great dragon of kemp. Like Allosaurus, this mighty marine reptile has piercing eyes and slashing teeth, as it waits for its prey to come into the great kemp underwater forests, where it lives. Its’ life is dedicated to the color green, just as Allosaurus’ is, but if Allosaurus’ green is the green of the land, which may be mighty, but still ebbs and flows with the rhythm of land, it waxes and wanes with the passing of time, just as all life on dry land does, then Tylosaurus’ green is the green of the sea, which is permanent, stable, eternal. Nothing waxes, nothing wanes, nothing moves, nothing flows in a kemp underwater forest, of which the Sargasso sea, the graveyard of the sea-ships is the biggest – and Tylosaurus, which slips and weaves through kemp strands with belying ease is its’ caterer and care-taker, devouring and dealing with the would-be intruders in its green underwater kingdom with ease!

End


	34. Red

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another drabble, color-related.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Red is the sixth color, the youngest, but certainly not the least. It is the color of fire, of blood, of death on sun-scorched rocks, but it is also love, of passion, of new life conceived. It is the color of fighting and fighters, of struggling, winning and losing.

Red is the color of rock. It is both puerile and sterile, it is exposition, starvation, abandonment – but it is also the color of blood, of life-giving blood, and even more life-giving fire. With fire, there can be death. Rock is bone, scorched by fire, scorched by sun, which is the father of fire. With fire, there always be life, always warmth, always heat, which is friendly and petting – until it is too much.

Red is the color of Ceratosaurus – glaring eyes, ripping teeth, beneath a goring horn. Ceratosaurus is nowhere as big as the great duo of Giganotosaurus and Tyrannosaurus Rex are, but it got teeth and jaws to rip, claws to slash, horn to gore. Pound for pound, it is scrappy, resilient, a fighter, using both brute strength and raw cunning to get around, to bring prey down that is bigger than Ceratosaurus itself is. Ceratosasurus is at home among the near-empty canyons; it walks and stomps, weaves and stalks. It is a killer bird and a land crocodile rolled into one.

Red is also the color of Liopleurodon, the great hunter of the deep-sea rifts. Like Ceratosaurus, Liopleurodon is all about power – long teeth to hold and to crush, powerful jaws to grasp and shake. The red of Ceratosaurus is the red of dry land, it is vivid and mighty, but like all on land it is subject to time, its’ times comes and goes, following the path of the sun, the measure of time. The red of Liopleurodon is the red of the sea, of the deep-sea rifts, where underwater volcanoes and geysers erupt, where lava flows, casting an angry red against the darkness of the sea. It is timeless, endless, a part of the planet itself, and nigh unstoppable, just as Liopleurodon itself is – the rifts’ lord and hunter, second to none.

End


	35. Colors - yellow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The latest color-related drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: still don't own anyone.

Yellow is the first color, the oldest, though admittedly not the greatest. It is the color of earth, of sun, of life that they give, but also of death, set in the middle of the sun-baked drought. Both fertility and sterility, life and death, are encapsulated in this color.

Yellow is the color of earth, of ground itself. Neither water nor fire, on its’ own earth is blank, little more than dust in the wind that will choke to death anyone that is caught in its’ grasp. Earth combines with the other elements, however, becomes the foundation of life and civilization, as this elemental team nourishes the more organic life forms.

Yellow is the color of Carnotaurus – smashing feet, crushing jaws, blazing eyes beneath a couple of proud horns. Carnotaurus is smaller than Tyrannosaurus Rex and Giganotosaurus are, but it is just as tenacious, just as vicious. A creature of the wide-open plains, which embody earth itself, it will run down and overpower any creature of its’ size or bigger, dragging them down and crush-ing them with its powerful and robust jaws and teeth…

Yellow is also the color of Dunkleosteus, the reef snapper. Like Carnotaurus, Dunkleosteus is all about power and speed – the great tail that allows this primeval fish its’ great bursts of speed, the mighty jaws, armed not with teeth, but with slicing plates of sharp bone. Carnotaurus is strong and fast for its’ size, and so’s Dunkleosteus, and pound for pound, it is the more massive one out of the two, a great hunter of the time that was before the dinosaurs roamed the world...


	36. An attempted meal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We're back with dinosaurs, it seems.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Late Cretaceous, Madagascar

The great big island of Madagascar during the Late Cretaceous was a seasonal place; during the wet season, it was quite tolerable to live, but during the drought, it was excessively harsh. Even the big carnivores, even the king of Madagascar, the great abelisaur Majungasaurus, was feeling the pinch, feeling the hunger, and it was making this dinosaur angry.

To make matters worse, this particular Majungasaurus was a female, with a couple of chicks to feed, so it was particularly angry, and hungry, and short-tempered. True, it had found a long-dead carcass, a relatively filling piece of carrion, but even that was being contested by a flock several Rahonavis, bird-like theropods, much smaller and more fragile than an adult Majungasaurus – but the clamor they were raising could attract bigger, stronger carnivores… and they did.

Another Majungasaurus, a male, appeared on the scene, more than capable of challenging for the carcass feeding right. It glared meanly at the female – maybe the newcomer had sired the female’s chicks to begin with in the past, it did not matter: Majungasaurus was not a very social dinosaur.

Not willing to risk injury, the female withdrew, with the chicks following, however reluctantly. One of them, bolder or dumber or more reckless than the rest of its’ siblings, risked stealing another bite. 

The male Majungasaurus, not willing to share, snapped angrily at the youngsters – and unexpect-edly, the chick’s mother came rushing back, its’ jaws opened wide.

Like all abelisaurs, a Majungasaurus is a relatively short and stocky theropod, much more com-pact than a carnosaur, such as Carcharadontosaurus, is. Whereas the latter aimed to slice and let the opponent bleed to death from thousand teeth cuts, a Majungasaurus aimed to hold, to grip and to crush.

There was more at stake than feeding rights for a carcass – for reptiles, including dinosaurs such as Majungasaurus, meat was meat, even of a relative, and cannibalism was common. Hence was what the female Majungasaurus was attempting…with ‘attempting’ being the key word as the male dodged the snapping jaws, went down low, and slammed the top of its’ head into the female’s body in a powerful ascending blow.

…A Majungasaurus’ head is not really in the same league’s as a boneheaded dinosaur’s (i.e. a Pachycephalosaurus), but it was still solid, and bumpy, and slightly horned, and being butted with it hurt: the female staggered backwards and collapsed onto the hard sandy soil, fight gone out of it for the moment.

The chicks surrounded their mother, chirping in concern, even as the flock of Rahonavis began to move closer towards the scene, now hoping that something might come their way.

The Majungasaurus male roared in anger and irritation, and the Rahonavis scattered once more, leaving the bigger predators to their own devices.

The Majungasaurus male inhaled once more, exhaled through its nostrils with a loud snort and withdrew from the female, returning to the carcass, upon which it began to feed, (while still eyeing the female). It did not have to worry – the female had learned its’ lesson and wouldn’t challenge slash attack it anytime soon.

Some meals are just not worth the trouble.


	37. Tarterian dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another D&D dragon write-up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: still don't own anyone or anything here.

**TARTERIAN DRAGONS**

Tarterian dragons are tricky and unpredictable, caring for nothing, but cruelty and malice, of which they are capable in great numbers. They dwell in the Tarterian depths of Carceri, often serving as wardens for demodands, tanar'ri and other powerful (and evil) outsiders that dwell on that plane as well.

Consequently, the tarterian dragons often nest in various towers, fortresses and strongholds, as opposed to the caves high in the Carcerian Mountains, but in either case, they prefer to possess high ground, just as many other dragons, both planar and non-planar do. They also prefer to avoid other dragons, especially other planar dragons, if they encounter them, especially on neutral ground (planes).

Some of the tarterian dragons are relatively reasonable creatures and can be negotiated with, but the greater half is too selfish and cruel for that, preferring to take what they can, and spoil what they can't, if given a chance.

**Tarterian Dragon Identifiers**

A tarterian dragon's notable feature is a long, semi-transparent crest on its neck and the back of its head, vaguely resembling the crest of the green dragon. On the forehead, the crest somewhat recedes into two or three long, forward-facing spikes, useless for attacking, but often applied to show-off between the tarterian dragons themselves during courting.

Other than the spikes, the head of the tarterian dragon is relatively smooth, with a pair of deep-set, glowing green eyes and a rather long, vaguely horse-like snout that the tarterian dragon often sticks into various nooks and crannies in search of prey.

A tarterian dragon tends to smell like a corpse, even while it is alive. A hatchling is born completely grey, to match the stony soil of Carceri. As it ages, bands of bluer colour begin to appear, and so the older tarterian dragons are usually covered in alternating bands of greyish and bluish colours.

A tarterian dragon's legs are especially long, but relatively thin: this dragon prefers to attack from the air, using its breath weapon and jaws first, following by a tail slap from its long, spiked tail, and the legs are used mainly to grasp the weakened prey and carry it into the air, where the dragon drops it for the final blow.

The ridge on the tarterian dragon's neck reduces into spikes (relatively short ones) on its back and tail. The spikes at the end of the tarterian dragon's tail are especially long and thick, allowing it to produce especially nasty slaps in a fight. The tail itself is long, but rather thin and not particularly powerful, so the vicious spikes at the end of it have to make-up for the lack of the physical power as well.

**Habits**

A tarterian dragon is often on the prowl, flying on its wings, seeking any prey or intruders. The wings of a tarterian dragon are often tattered from the plane's powerful winds, but the dragon itself is relatively light-weight (by dragon standards), so the tattered appearance and condition of its wings doesn't slow it much.

Although the tarterian dragon does not have the air subtype, the tarterian dragon spends more time on wing than on foot: the stilt-like legs with the long talons of this dragon do not allow it to move particularly fast, especially on flat ground.  
In a fight, the tarterian dragon prefers to use its breath weapons, followed by physical attacks from above: it rarely uses its spell-like abilities, mostly to divide (and to conquer more easily) its opponents, and it learns new spells (or takes ranks in a class) even more rarely.

Although they're often chaotic, a pair of tarterian dragons usually remains constant with each other for several years, if not decades, regularly producing clutches of eggs. If the dragons are not wild, but are in employ of other natives of Carceri, their older offspring may settle alongside them as well, forming impromptu colonies that take care of its own, especially in face of greater threats.

The courtship of tarterian dragons is an elaborate affair, resulting in a dancing flight in Carceri's skies aimed to test the endurance of each dragon, its determination to make, and its flying skills. Such flights can last for hours, sometimes even days.

_(This tarterian dragon was based on the version appearing in 3.5 edition of Draconomicon, 2003)_


	38. Rope golem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A write-up of the rope/hangman golem from DnD and the like.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapters.

Across the multiverse, there are many types of golem, and the rope, or the hangman, golem is one of the more obscure ones. 

**CONSTRUCTION**

As evident by its’ less gruesome name – the rope golem – this golem is made out of ropes or cords, and quite a few of them: up to 1250 gp worth in total. The ropes by themselves are not too expensive; it is the saturation in the alchemical slash magical concoctions that make them appropriate and prepared for the golem creation per se that is.

More ironically, the treatment process is only the beginning, as this golem’s body and shape, (usually humanoid than any other) requires both Craft (weaving) and Use Rope skill checks, and few magic-users, of any school, have appropriate amount of ranks in those skills, so often some outsider specialist, (with ranks in the expert NPC class, for example), is required to create the golem further.

Finally, there’re the spells themselves – in the rope golem’s case, they’re the animate rope, geas/quest, limited wish and polymorph any object; as a rule, the caster must be at least of a 16th level to make the rope (or the hangman) golem come to life.

**USE**

Now, the rope golem is animated, and looks like a tall humanoid with a featureless face, albeit with two eyes that glow from the depth of the twisted ropes. What next?

Well, now you got yourself a formidable guardian, appropriate to stymie even mid-level PCs with several nasty tricks.

**COMBAT**

First, the rope golem might be vulnerable to fire, but like the rest of the golems, this construct is immune to most spells, spell-like abilities and supernatural abilities that allow for save resistance, but the rope trick spell actually paralyzes the rope golem for 1 round, (no save) – but this spell is a fairly obscure one and isn’t very likely to be available immediately at hand, so the rope golem is quite secure from this threat.

(Incidentally, the animate rope spell actually invigorates the rope golem, or rather – hastens it, as the haste spell would, for about five rounds: can be useful to know).

Secondly, this golem is a shapeshifter of sorts, and can unravel itself into a mass of tangled ropes. In this manner, it cannot attack, but it gains fast healing and can recuperate after a fight, or prepare for an ambush for the next party.

As for the combat, this golem is a straightforward fighter and assassin: it tries to grapple its opponents, and if it gets an improved grab hold on its’ foe, then it can either constrict or strangle the latter, hence its’ other name – the hangman golem. Moreover, it can create a literal whirlwind of ropes that allows it to make a single slam attack against each opponent within 10 ft. In this manner, it cannot use its’ improved grab ability, but often this is compensated by the rope golem’s greater reach – it is a construct of Large size, that takes up a 10 ft. space and has a 20 ft. reach, quite a bit more than an average PC adventurer has. 

**CONCLUSION**

A rope (slash hangman) golem is good sneak/surprise opponent against mid-level PCs with its damage reduction and fast healing. Its’ unusual take on immunity to magic may stump even experienced adventurers, and its’ grisly look may unnerve them. In short, having a hangman golem is a good addition to any final boss’s arsenal, (especially for the more mid-level than high-level RPG games).

End


	39. Mud golem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The write-up of the mud golem from D&D and how it can be used in a game.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous games.

There are plenty of various types of golem in the multiverse, and the mud golem is one of the lesser known of them. It almost strides the border between the constructs and the elementals, as it appears to be a humanoid mass of mud that is twice the size of an average human PC.

**CONSTRUCTION**

As it is self-evident, the mud golem is created out of mud, though not just any mud would do. Rather, the mud must be augmented by the caster’s magics…or collected from some magic-rich area from the start. A lot of it is required as well – about 1000 gp worth of material, (not even magically augmented mud is too expensive – it just mud after all).

To construct the mud golem as a physical object, before the appropriate spells must be cast, re-quires a sufficient number of ranks of either the Craft (sculpting) or the Craft (pottery) skills, and neither of those skills appear very often in a skill set of a high level spell caster, (to create a mud golem you must be of a 14th level at least), so either the caster in question must become a specialist themselves by this point in the campaign, or hire an outside specialist to achieve this. (It is up to the GM to decide which route to follow or what else have you, cough).  
Finally, to animate the golem for real, the spell caster must, well, cast qeas/quest, limited wish, polymorph any object and transmute rock to mud to bring the mud golem to life, (or to the surrogate appearance of one).

Now the mud golem is complete and is ready to serve.

**USES**

The mud golem is a guardian, first and foremost; his atypicalness is that it is more suited for a role outside, in the great outdoors, than inside, as some other golems – such as the better-known clay and flesh golems – are. As such, and because it is made from watery mud, the mud golem actually has ranks in the Swim skills, (i.e., it can swim in the water without breaking apart), and it can hide – despite of being a Large construct - in mud quite well. Hence, most often mud golems are set to guard alongside water bodies, often with muddy or silty shorelines as well.

**COMBAT**

A mud golem is largely a straightforward combatant – it seeks to slam its’ opponents with fists, and then engulf them into its body, where the latter has a good chance of suffocating, seeing how there’s no air in the mud golem.

A better strategy is ranged combat when dealing with a mud golem, but like most golems, the mud golem is immune to all spells, spell-like abilities, and supernatural abilities that allow spell resistance, but-

-But the transmute mud to rock spell slows the mud golem, (as per the slow spell) for 2d6 rounds, (no save), and a stone to flesh spell negates its damage resistance, (DR 10/adamantine and bludg-eoning) for 1 round. (Most energy spells appear to be ineffective against the mud golem, and the transmute rock to mud spell actually allows the mud golem to regain all of its lost hps – a typical mud golem usually has about 112 of them).

In addition, the mud golem has a breath weapon – a 15-ft cone of slippery mud, usable every 1d3 rounds. The effect of this breath weapon is akin to the grease spell, plus everyone hit by it gets blinded for 1d3 rounds as well. (Save DC 17 for both effects, the save DC is Con-based). Considering that an average mud golem is a Large construct, with a space and reach of 10 ft. each, this makes fighting this construct rather tricky and makes the mud golem a worthy opponent for even a mid-level PC party…

**CONCLUSION**

The mud golem may be ignored and forgotten given its’ lowly origins, but it is a formidable opponent in its’ own right and can stand up for itself even against a mid-level PC party, since its’ CR is 11. It lurks at the edge of land and water and when it attacks, like all golems, it is relentless.

End


	40. Steel dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A write-up of DnD's steel dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapter.

Alongside the mercury and the mist dragons, the steel dragon is the third dragon that seems to have originated on the world of Faerun™ - or perhaps not. Other scholars claim that it had originated on the world of Greyhawk™ - but it does not matter. For from wherever the steel dragon had come from, it is in a class of its’ own.

For a start, it shares traits with both the widespread metallic and less-wide-spread ferruginous dragons, but is not considered to be true kin to either. For while both of these major groups of the dragon family tree have members who can change their shapes into those of other beings, they also have members that do not – but the steel dragon can. From the day it is born as a wyrmling, it can change its shape – a feat that puts it on an equal footing with such powerful true dragons as the gold and the silver. Yet, while the gold and the silver dragons have the air of haughty arrogance and/or superiority even while they are young (they may be well intentioned, but their delivery of those intentions is something else), the steel dragons do not. Rather, they do their best to blend into the settlements of civilized races, such as humanoids, and tend to shun the more clichéd dwellings of dragons, such as caves. Verily, the only other dragon species that goes to these lengths is the deep dragon, or the drow-dragon, who dwells deep, well, underground, but prefers to live around the settlements of such beings as dwarves, duergar, and drow. The steel dragon is not unlike that, though it does not live underground, but on its surface, along humans, elves or half-elves most often. There, it makes their business its business, often creating several successful personas, usually amassing an impressive amount of wealth that it keeps...in a bank or several, not unlike a human, say. Often it has private property too – and the human-like aspects of its behavior are not just restricted to business, but also to pleasure: a steel dragon enjoys good food, music and company as well as an ordinary person; in fact, some of the stories about dragons kidnapping maidens and the like are based on steel dragon courtships gone wrong (or right). Half-steel dragon hybrids are quite common on many dimensions, including the aforementioned Faerun™; not unlike their dragon parents such half-dragons boast a breath weapon of acid...and a resistance to poison, rather than immunity to an energy type.

As for the courtship between the steel dragons proper, it can be a varied affair depending on the dragons’ individuality: it can vary from quiet and dignified to exuberant, depending on the dragons, though it should be noted that the steel dragons tend to pick mates that compliment them (casual dalliances and relationships are something else) for they tend to mate for life, remain loyal to each other (in the long run), and raise their children together. As far as dragons go, steel dragon hatchlings are very needy (almost as needy as mist dragon hatchlings) and are quite reliant on their parents for mental and emotional support. (This is why steel dragons usually do not form long-term relationships with other species of dragons, though it can vary on individual basis, of course.)

Speaking of the steel dragons’ relationship with the other dragons – they usually tend to keep them away, at arm’s length, so to speak. They get well along with the other good-aligned dragons (and even neutrally aligned), but they tend to drive the evil dragons from their territories, often employing adventurers via their magical disguises and/or intermediaries. As a consequence, most PC parties tend to end up being employed by a steel dragon than going against one.

Again, the only dragon canny enough to turn this strategy of the steel dragon against it is the deep dragon, but it and the steel dragon encounter each other only rarely, and actually tend to ignore each other – there is something in their mutual presence that makes both deep and steel dragons simply uncomfortable with each other. Shadow dragons too are often clever and cunning enough to get to a steel dragon directly via their magical ties to the plane of Shadow, so a conflict between a shadow and a steel dragon often results in a ‘true’ dragon battle, both of physical power and that of magical, as the steel dragon’s versatility is challenged by the shadow dragon’s shadow magic specialization. Often such a night goes for hours, and it takes nightfall or daybreak to properly tip the scales in favor of one dragon or another.

As for non-dragon characters, who seek to challenge a steel dragon, they should remember the following:

\- It is a dragon that is really good at pretending otherwise. A campaign that involves a steel dragon should also involve many lesser adventures, that have the adventurers deal with secondary threats and obstacles, and they should become aware of a steel dragon’s true draconic nature only gradually, as the distance between them and the dragon shrinks. Even so, some doubts should remain - about the dragon’s species, perhaps, just to further deepen the players’ confusion.

\- It is a dragon with many allies, and many of those allies are not summoned or conjured, but are true friends of the dragon. Some may know the steel dragon’s true nature, the others may not, but they will likely do not care if they do, for a steel dragon is still a force of good for the community it resides for (usually, though there can be variants).

\- It is a versatile dragon. Some dragons prefer melee combat, others – more ranged. Some prefer a more magical sort of battle, others less so. The steel dragon can do all and any of them, choosing its approach depending on what sort of enemy it is dealing with. (And it should have plenty of time of learning about the PCs as the game campaign unfolds.)

And so, this is the steel dragon – versatile, clever, and very human-like in its behavior. Hope that you will have fun using it in your campaign!


	41. The lark and the nightingale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How about a brief poem instead, this time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anyone here.

In the morning, lark does sing,  
In morning, watch sun swing.  
To sing, the lark flies to the sun,  
Hence why the lark is songbirds’ king.

The nightingale this does not accept,  
He waits for evening moon to intercept.  
And as soon as the moon arrives,  
The nightingale sings – what a surprise!

The fairy said: “What silly birds!  
Their silliness denies all words!  
Before the dusk, there is the dawn –  
A king for the evening, and king for the morn!”


	42. Different Depictions: Storm Giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's talk about storm giants instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

**Different Depictions: Storm Giants**

Easily 5 to 6 m in height, the storm giant in their full splendor cuts an impressive and imposing figure, but also a rare one, since they are relatively introvert and don't come into contact easily. Unlike most giants, they aren't the descendants of the Jotuns from the Norse nome; rather, they claim to be descendants of the titans and gods of the Greek nome instead. This is certainly true, and during Gold, Silver, and Bronze ages of this nome they had been its undisputed rulers (though in part because there were no dragons or similar beings to properly challenge their rule), and while the storm giants themselves claim that their rule was benevolent, the myths and legends of the ancient Greeks (and to a lesser extent - of their neighbors) show more capricious and unpredictable beings, who generally looked down on the lesser races, and didn't always got along - several of the myths show the mythological analogs of the storm giants fighting either other giants or each other.

The climax of this rule came during the Trojan war: when the Greek city-states warred (largely together against Troy), so did the storm giants - with each other. It was a rather long and brutal war, and it largely depleted the inherent magics of the ancient Greek nome: its borders came crashing down, opening it to other nomes - Roman, Egyptian, Persian/Parthian, etc. This development also signed the demise of the storm giants' power over the 'lesser races': as the ancients Greeks first conquered the Persians and then themselves fell to Rome, their old deities faded, as the surviving storm giants broke off their contact with other races and gradually faded away...

...only to resurface in the American south. It is unknown how and when did they make their trip across the Atlantic, but given the fact that many storm giants possess powerful magics, specifically suited to travel overseas and the like, it probably wasn't too hard. Initially, the storm giants had settled in what are now the south-east U.S. states, which still boast the main population of storm giants in the modern world, where they recovered their culture, which is still similar to what they once had, save that they are still more introvert than their ancestors had been, and don't get along with sentient races unlike various animals, often amphibious, such as the American alligators, who are often found alongside the storm giants - but they are more like pets, rather than proper friends and companions, unlike in case of the other main North American giant - the stone giant. The latter, it should be noted, don't get along with the storm giants, for the storm giants are normally twice as tall as the stone giants are, for one thing. For another, while the stone giants prefer to live on the mountains, (such as the Rockies or the Appalachians), the storm giants prefer to live in the lowlands, as a rule - near water, i.e. in places that the stone giants prefer to avoid.

Furthermore, while the stone giants often prefer to avoid people, (though there are exceptions), the storm giants tend to get along well with them, (though there are exceptions and limits). Their magics allow them to change size and to fit-in with humans and similarly-sized races (more or less). They don't try to dominate as their cultural ancestors did in ancient Greece, but they still don't avoid them as the stone giants tend to do.

Lately, there are rumors that the Greeks are planning to invite the storm giants back to their native homeland. So far, the storm giants aren't responding to this sort of suggestion, period. They're quite happy staying in the U.S., and aren't planning on leaving it, yet.

End


	43. Chimera

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ecology of D&Ds Chimera.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapter.

Among the various creatures that inhabit the multiverse, the chimera occupies a peculiar place: at the edge between dragons and dragon-kind, and the magical beasts of a somewhat more mundane nature.

The chimera is well known to most monster hunters, sages and other learned people: it is a three-headed monster, a unique creature even among monsters, most of which have only one head, (the ettin has two, the hydra – five and more, but they are of a unique bend themselves.), and one of those heads is that of a dragon.

Here elaboration is in order. The original Chimera, which haunted the country Lycia and was slain by Bellorophont, did indeed have three heads – but none of them was draconic. Instead, that third head (the first was that of a lion and the second of a goat) was that of a serpent.

Now, theories abound as to why a serpent head of the original chimera became that of a dragon instead. The Cult of the Dragon is a likely culprit: their wizards, clerics, and wearers of purple often experiment with various monstrous beasts, including the more advanced version of the chimera – the dracimera, so perhaps they were responsible for the initial transformation of the chimeras as well.

Another theory is that some god resurrected, or recreated the original chimera, making it part dragon, rather than part snake, to make it even more formidable – and it was already formidable from the start. Whatever the theory, the chimeras began spread and flourish – relatively so. They are solitary and territorial beasts; they mate infrequently and are rumored to be able to reproduce without any mating at all.

The chimera is a glutton and will eat anything and anyone it can. Although it looks part dragon, it generally does not have a hoard – it leaves the valuables of its victims lying around...unless it works in tandem with some other monster, or even a dragon...something that the canny adventuring parties should be aware of and adjust their approach accordingly.

On its own, a chimera is a frightful adversary. The original Chimera preferred to hunt on the ground, but its descendants can fly as well, albeit at a slow speed. They prefer to attack from ambush, whether from the ground or air, utilizing their multiple heads to bite and gore their enemies until they are dead. They prefer to use their breath weapon when attacking from above, trying to inflict maximum damage while staying out of range of return attacks: this is why they attack spell casters and ranged weapon specialists first.

However, despite their multiple heads, the chimeras are rather dim – Bellorophont killed the original monster by rammed an ingot of lead into its throat until the beast choked and died – and its descendants are not any smarter or quicker to react. Thus, when going against a chimera, a PC party should be well-stocked on healing spells as well as shield ones, and prepare for a series of fast ambush attacks that end quickly – unless cornered or grounded, the chimera would rather flee than fight to the death.

The problem is that the chimera despites its relative power and physical prowess may be a minion of a greater adversary, like the Cult of the Dragon, or even a dragon, who may use the chimera to cover up their own attacks. Thus, a black dragon Tohvittumrhoth uses a chimera named Ergatul to further confuse her enemies and cover up her own ambushes and ravages – and if adventurers go forth, they will find themselves out of their depths, for Tohvittumrhoth is a mature black dragon and a more formidable adversary than a mere chimera; her ties with Cult of the Dragon make her even more difficult to defeat.

On its own, a chimera is just a mid-level monster and relatively easy to defeat. When it is work-ing with allies – or a master – it becomes much more formidable.


	44. Mountain Landwyrm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another D&D write-up for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own anyone or anything.

There are many theories regarding the origins of the landwyrms – wingless cousins of the true dragons that come in many shapes and sizes. Some claim that they arose because of dragon-Fay interactions; others – that they are related to elemental drakes, a rather large and varied group of dragonkind in their own right. Still others claim that the landwyrms are not true dragons, but rather spirits of the land – plain, desert, hill and so on; that explains their differences in shapes and sizes as well as in their powers (but not in their attitude to other life forms – almost always it is nasty and vicious).

Of course, that is only a theory, but the landwyrms appear to prove it true at least to some extent; for example, the mountain landwyrm, named after the biggest land feature there is, is also the biggest member of the landwyrm family (though perhaps not the smartest or the nastiest).

A fully-grown mountain landwyrm is a colossus of brute strength, clad in rocky hide so thick that not even claws and teeth of a true dragon can do much damage against it. It lacks a breath weapon of its own, but can emit a thunderous roar, similar to that of the dragonne, but much more powerfully; thankfully, the mountain landwyrm can use that power only once per day, but often that is enough for the landwyrm to win the day and the fight.

Fortunately, it seems that beyond this roar the mountain landwyrm has no spell-like abilities of its own, and its relatively low (for a dragon) IQ usually prevents it from becoming a sorcerer or a wizard; however, some exceptional mountain landwyrms became fighters or barbarians instead, further augmenting their already prominent physical prowess.

The other advantage when dealing with mountain landwyrms is that they are loners, and tend to avoid company of their kind (let alone other creatures). That is not to say that they aren’t encoun-tered in a couple or even a group of 3 to 6 mountain landwyrms, but in this case only the most suicidal of adventurers would dream of attacking them all at once.

On their own, however, mountain landwyrms are manageable, especially if the adventurers have help from their gods (or perhaps have an archmage for a patron); even so, usually they try to drive away mountain landwyrms from their lands (preferably back to the mountains from which they came or into a rivalling kingdom), rather than killing it, even though doing that would establish the adventurers’ reputation for centuries to come.

On the other hand, mountain landwyrms also tend to breed every once in a century or so, and their eggs tend to take even longer to hatch; undistinguishable for rocks at a first sight, they often may lie in shallow caves high in the mountains in plain sight, protected by their camouflage and their mother’s presence (and also by their size and strength of their shells).

When they hatch, the juvenile mountain landwyrms are much more ravenous than their parents are, and will often depopulate the mountainside upon which they were hatched, devouring any animal, monster or plant life that they find tasty, including their weaker brothers and sisters. This trait is followed by the adult mountain landwyrms, who also eat their younger kin, including their own offspring: this keeps the number of mountain landwyrms in check and ensures that only the biggest and the strongest landwyrms survive to adulthood.

Beyond each other, the mountain landwyrms have few enemies; not even the oldest red, gold and silver dragons tend to attack these colossi for though clumsy, mountain landwyrms show a remarkable aptitude for snatching and once their enemies are caught, they are at mercy of the landwyrm’s great strength and even greater appetite.

The mountain landwyrm is almost as big as a mountain and is about just unfriendly. It is a good thing, then, that it prefers to remain in its uninviting home.

_The mountain landwyrm first appeared in 3.5 edition of Draconomicon, 2003._


	45. Frost dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ecology of the frost dragon from Krynn, for a change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I still don't own any dragons.

As ages and eons go by, the draconic family tree tends to change little; these creatures may not be gods, outsiders or elementals, but they are nigh immortal, almost unchanging, and practically eternal – good or bad, dragons are more rigid than fluid in some areas of their existence… unless something chaotic comes along.

In the dimension of Krynn, of ‘Dragonlance’ fandom, that ‘something chaotic’ had been the Father Chaos himself, the primordial father of the gods, the good, the bad and the neutral. Initially ‘merely’ chaotic, his long imprisonment in the Greygem shifted his allegiance as well as point of view to downright nihilistic, which is when the frost dragons’ troubles started.

…Actually, on a certain level, this was when the frost dragons had started, period, as a modest clan of white dragons encountered the imprisoned Chaos in the Greygem, and it transformed them into grey dragons instead. (In game terms, think white dragons just with slightly different statistics, nothing more). Transformed and rejected by Takhisis, (aka Tiamat), the grey dragons fled and were not seen on Krynn again until Father Chaos was freed for real. Unable to resist his call, the grey dragons sought him some time after the entity had created his fire dragons, being of living flame and oblivion.

It is unknown just how the fire dragons came to be, for when the gods had defeated their Father and Grandfather for the last time, the fire dragons withdrew and largely vanished from Krynn and from multiverse; it is possible that they died out, but all dragons and dragon-kind are hardy beasts and it is more likely that the fire dragons have survived somewhere beyond the gaze of Krynn’s gods.

With the frost dragons, the situation was somewhat different, as Chaos didn’t create them from scratch, as he did with the fire dragons, but rather took the approached grey dragons and by fusing them with some of his minions – the so-called frost wights – he turned them into the frost dragons, his ‘other’ minions instead.

Unlike they grey dragons, the frost dragons do not look like the mainline white dragons; instead, they look like living ice sculptures, with black and cold eyes that belie their chaotic evil nature, especially in case of the oldest frost dragons that look almost iceberg-like, despite their physical prowess.

Yet deep within the frost dragons remained ‘true’ dragons at their hearts, unlike the fire dragons, who had nothing but Father Chaos’ will. Thus, once Chaos fell and the fire dragons collapsed, (metaphorically speaking, at least at first), the frost dragons fled instead, fleeing to other universes, other dimensions that hosted dragons, where they settled in cold, out of the way places, such as mountaintops and the like, and began to breed true.

A frost dragon isn’t all that different from a white dragon, save that it is much more formidable; with Chaos’ defeat, their power of oblivion no longer functions (unless you’re confronting one of those wyrms back on Krynn), and they are no longer entities of annihilation; rather, they are entities of frost and cold instead.

Like all dragons, frost dragons can eat anything, but they do prefer young prey, at least when they are young. As such, the frost dragons’ parents – and the frost dragons are obsessed at survival, and as such they are very good parents, much more so than many of the older chromatic dragon races – tend to hunt either the local wildlife or go down the mountainsides, (or just further south or north, if they are lairing at the poles instead), and hunt live prey, including sentient humanoids, instead.

A frost dragon raid is a very thorough affair as these beasts are paranoid, especially by dragon standards and tend not live any witnesses alive. They also tend to eat any clues of their presence in the neighbourhood, alive or dead, for the same paranoiac reasons. They also love to eat – they enjoy this process as it reminds them that they are living beings once more and not merely min-ions of chaos… even if they still have the chaotic subtype for the game terms, though they are not outsiders (in game terms).

…Naturally, they also have the cold subtype, which means that while they are immune to cold and vulnerable to fire, heat and sunlight does not bother them; in fact, for being evil dragons, frost dragons really enjoy playing with each other in the sunlight, watching how it sparkles upon their hides. They can look ridiculous in such circumstances… but they still can be deadly.

Like almost all dragons, frost dragons have a breath weapon – a cone of cold, which is now identical to what their white dragon ancestors did… unless you are on Krynn, in which case it still deals not just cold damage, but 1 point of Cha damage per each age category of the frost dragon in question.

The frost dragons also emanate an aura of cold, making it hard for the unprepared to fight them in a melee combat, (especially if the PC party is still low-level enough), and like their white dragon ancestors, they can icewalk, (think spider climb, but only on icy surfaces). They can cast spells, (juveniles or older), have damage reduction and spell resistance, and adult and older ice dragons have innate spell-like abilities…that don’t have anything in common with ice, snow or winter. Instead, these abilities are clairaudience/clairvoyance, which allows a frost dragon to spy slash scout from some distance, and also confusion, chaos hammer, and word of chaos that they use quite effectively, especially against paladins or similarly lawful opponents.

…Frost dragons tend to lair and live in out of the way places, as it was said before, so it can be hard for a PC party, (especially an inexperienced and/or unprepared one), to find them. They also tend to get rid of all of the witnesses in a fight, so a fight with a frost dragon usually means a fight to the death, on Krynn or elsewhere, so prepare to fight it with a lot of back-up plans and a thorough strategy!

This, then, is the frost dragon, initially of Krynn, but now of the multiverse. Maybe.

End

This version of frost dragon is based on Dragonlance’s™ ‘Bestiary of Krynn’ (2004).


	46. Different Depictions: Stone Giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Much ado about giants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Among the main giant races, the stone giant remains one of the greater enigmas, as it is neither common enough to be well-known, nor rare enough to be truly interesting to the anthropologist, especially in the Old World.

As a rule, most of the giants trace their ancestry to the half-fabled Jotuns of the Norse nome, starting with the fire and frost giants, and ending with the ogres and trolls. The stone giant, some scientists claim, is one of the links in that chain of descent, standing just above the hill giant (in more meanings than one) of the giant descent into barbarism and savagery. The wizarding communities of Hogwards, Beauxbatons and other enclaves are especially supportive of this theory for reasons of their own.

Others, however, claim that the stone giant is not so much as a link than an alternative road, (to use mixed metaphors): some time in the past the mutual ancestor of him and the hill giant had parted ways...geographically speaking: the hill giant had remained in Europe, where it became, well, the hill giant (and maybe also the ogre, some specialists believe), while the stone giant had moved to North America, where it had become the stone giant of the modern times.

The stone giant is one of the smaller giants, taller than the average human, ogre and hill giant, but still shorter than most of the other true giants all the same. Their skin is grey and stone-like, giving them the look of an elemental being rather than that of flesh and blood. The fact that their elders often tend to learn elemental magics themselves only further deepens the illusion.

Like the human native Americans, the stone giants are a tribal race, with the more powerful and wise elders (compared to an average stone giant) leading any given tribe. They are common over most of North America, but more so in the West than East or South, as they dislike lowlands and wetlands and prefer to live in the mountains (especially the Rockies), where it's rocky and dry, as they prefer it to be.

The stone giants hadn't fared well with people, and prefer to avoid them as much as it is possible. They are not particularly fond of the other giants, especially the shadow giants of the South America, who sometimes used to come up north, and raid stone giant tribes' settlements. For their own part, stone giants prefer to co-exist with nature, often acquiring animal pets and companions in their lifetime: they are especially fond of the American black bears, and a stone giant tribe may have several bears in their camps as pets and trusted allies.

Stone giants do not like the concept of reservations very well, and often leave them, wherever possible. Some vanish into the wilderness and become one with nature, (so to speak), while others can be seen in American cities, where they make a living - at 3-4.5 m tall they do tend to stand out in the still predominantly human crowd.

Maybe because they are so naturally grey, stone giants often like to dye or tattoo their skins with various colors, giving them a very unusual appearance from one individual to another. They tend to avoid other giants and their ideology, especially the frost and the fire giants, but on occasion they have been known to get along with the storm giants, especially since the latter are the only other giants who had been living in North America en masse for a long period of time and don't agree with other giants' ideology either (by and large). They still prefer animal companionship to that of other sentient beings though, so if you disturb or startle a stone giant in the wilderness...things could get nasty.

End


	47. Death dogs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The ecology of the death dog from the 'Fiend Folio' (3.5 D&D)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapters.

The supernatural dogs that an adventurer may encounter during his quest are many. There are the infamous hellhounds, fire-breathing dogs that make popular guards for red dragons, fire giants and devils. There are the shadow mastiffs and their lesser-known cousins the vorr – unpredictable save in their cruelty, with the power to skulk in shadows unseen, striking when you least expect to. There are the yeth hounds, tireless trackers, who never stopped unless they are “made to”. And then there is the death dog.

At a first glance the death dog is a very intimidating monster – a double-headed canine that delivers a nasty disease with any bite. Moreover, it hunts in packs, and a pack of those monsters can be troublesome to higher-level adventurers – deadly for the lower level. The death dogs are not particularly intelligent (two heads or not), but they are cunning and can often coordinate their attacks with each other. Working as a team, they will attack from behind, trying to hamstring their prey while the pack leader will deliver the final blow from the front. Other times they will attack face on, making as much noise as possible, trying to intimidate their prey. They can make ambushes, but their usual method of attacking is a long, drawn-out pursuit until their prey succumbs to disease or exhaustion – and then it is devoured, dead or alive.

Despite their cunning and pack prowess, death dogs have plenty of weaknesses. Though they have two heads, their intelligence is barely higher than that of ordinary wolves or wild dogs, and though they are magical creatures, they have no resistance against spells or even non-magical weapons (though on occasion a death dog pack leader will be an axiomatic, anarchic, or most likely a fiendish creature as well). If the adventurers stand their ground and counterattack with weapons, spells, or even non-magical fire, a pack of death dogs will break away their attack after several attempts (usually no more than 4 or 5) and flee without looking back – these creatures are cunning, but they are also cowardly.

They are also relatively weak and feeble-bodied: though their bites are nasty (and carry disease) they also don’t deal much damage beyond the disease and can be warded-off by a good suit of armor: death dogs don’t have any other attacks and from a player’s perspective they don’t have many hit points either – one or two good blows are enough to kill any death dog.

Because death dogs are quite vulnerable on their own, they prefer to live in packs, and like the more ordinary canines they give birth to live young. Female death dogs with puppies usually make an out-of-the-way lair and their partners feed them for several months, until the puppies’ eyes open and they can stay by themselves. It is at this time that they are usually captured (or taken away) by other, bigger monsters or even unscrupulous villains, who want to possess a monstrous-looking guard dog. On their own, in the wild, death dogs live for no more than a couple of decades – and maybe even less in captivity or on duty, as they get killed either by adventurers or their own masters.

The most famous of death dog watchdogs was Orthus, who guarded the blood-red cattle of the triple-bodied giant of an ogre, Geryon on the island of Erythrea beyond the world of men. Yet though it was larger than an average death dog, Orthus was still no match for the great Hercules, who felled him with a single blow. (Geryon himself took three.)

Death dogs that have fiendish – or other extraplanar – blood in their veins are more formidable still – when Perseus went to the land of the dead to defeat Medusa, he had to slay her watchdog first – another oversized death dog that had anarchic blood in its veins for it was immune to Medusa`s petrifying gaze. Yet again, though that death dog was able to kill one of Perseus’ men, it was quickly slain instead.

Death dogs make difficult foes for lower-level parties, and if they are sufficiently advanced (to Large or Huge size) and have extraplanar blood in their veins (or perhaps are part fiend, dragon, etc), they can be hard to defeat even for experienced adventurers and heroes. Nevertheless, be-tween the relative physical weakness for their size and their low-level IQ, they seldom take very long to be defeated either.

“Death dog” was first featured in 3.5 Fiend Folio (2003)


	48. Dire hawk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About the dire hawk of D&D.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapters.

Out of the many beasts that fill the air, the dire hawk isn’t the best known one - after all, it’s a mere bird...but with an attitude to match!

To begin with, unlike its smaller mundane cousins, the dire hawk is a big bird: 1.5 m long with a 3-m wingspan, its attitude is justified- like the other birds of prey, it’s territorial and doesn’t tolerate any rivals that aren’t dragon-sized or so; even eagles tend to avoid a dire hawk’s home range; if they, smaller hawks and falcons start vanishing, then it’s a sure sign that a dire hawk is in town, and that’s not good, as dire hawks easily take livestock as prey and even smaller humanoids. 

...Yes, ordinary dire hawks are still animals and can be dealt with just like any other ‘varmints’ are, but given their size, strength and power of flight, many farmers find themselves hard-pressed to defeat them, and so they turn to the adventurers, and they don’t come cheap. At least not the high-level ones are, and low-level are another story, even they might struggle against a dire hawk.

An ordinary dire hawk isn’t armed with anything beyond its beak and talons, but given its strength and their sharpness, they can still hurt, especially when put against a halfling or a gnome - thus either a curing potions or the presence of a healer in the party is a must, when fighting a dire hawk, especially a wild one.

... On the other hand, the dire hawk in question may be someone else’s animal companion to begin with, and a trained dire hawk is more than just a powerful ambush predator; it can execute commands, sometimes quite complex ones, and will be even trickier to defeat, especially with its master’s support, (and possibly even spells). Therefore, some sort of a strategy when fighting against a dire hawk is a good idea.

Finally, the dire hawks are especially protective when they are at their nests, with eggs or hatchings in them - then they often fight to the death, and an unscrupulous PC might find themselves outmatched by the parent birds - like many dire animals, dire hawks reproduce and mature slowly, so every egg and chick maters for them, as they do for protective rangers and druids... so defeating the hawks might only be the start of the adventure...

And that’s that for the dire hawk, a small part of a big game world.

End


	49. Wizard's minion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another poem, you know?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapters.

A dark, gloomy passageway,  
Like a thief, I'm on my way,  
Scold myself, am barely breathing,  
So not to frighten off these,  
Who are sleeping long ago,  
These, but whom nevertheless,  
In whose I room secretly I desire  
To glance...  
To see...

How the insomnia in this hour of night,  
Changes, you, unsociable, your appearance and your might,  
To whose ideas you're enslaved?  
By whose ideas people are your prey?

There's a small cross on my breast,  
Look at it, and see the rest,  
That on you, it's capable  
To change quite a lot  
Many books I read indeed,  
Many tricks have been my meat,  
Don't even to attempt from me your secret hide!  
This I saw!

How the insomnia in this hour of night,  
Changes, you, unsociable, your appearance and your might,  
To whose ideas you're enslaved?  
By whose ideas people are your prey?

'Tis a pity, that back then you wouldn't believe me,  
That in fact your newest friend is not like everyone!  
All alone with him you were,  
Knowing naught for ever more...  
That he's dangerous for all, you gave not a damn  
And you fell!

To a wizard, who's real,  
Ruining folks like you, it's his deal!  
As a doll, during the night,  
He can govern you!

Everything takes place as in a terrible sleep.  
And so back to safety I must creep!


	50. In the beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Of the war between Zeus and Chronus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: it's all Greek myths to me.

All of this was a long, long time ago.

This was at the beginning, and at the beginning there was chaos. Boundless, boundless, formless, it spread from the beginning to the end, and then… something happened in it. Order was conceived in chaos, and chaos began to be divided after all – into air and land, water and flame. Life was conceived in chaos - and Mother Earth, Mother Gaea, came to be.

Mother Earth stretched itself from edge to edge, and she divided the entire other world into top and bottom halves. And beneath mother Gaea laid gloomy Tartarus, and there Mother Night, Nyx, came to be. But meanwhile Gaea gave birth to Pontus the sea, and she gave birth to woodlands and mountains, fields and plains, and she gave birth to Uranus the Sky. The Sky, the mountains and the Sea were born from Gaea and they have no father.

And powerful Uranus the Sky fell in love with Mother Gaea. From their union came Hemera the bright Day and the three Cyclops fathers – Arg, Steropes and Brontes – came from the union and so have the three hundred-headed and hundred-armed giants, the hecatoncheires, and finally, from that union came the six first titans and six first titanesses. Mother Gaea smiled, looking at their children, but Uranus frowned sternly, he did not like them at all. Uranus imprisoned his children in the depths of Tartarus, and from the injustice of this act, from the grief that arose from that act, from Mother Earth's salty maternal tears, a new metal, adamantium, was born – the metal that was greater than all other metals.

And the three eldest Cyclops – Arg, Steropes and Brontes – told their brothers and sisters:

"We can, o our brothers' hecatoncheires and titans, o our sisters-titanesses, forge from the adamantium metal a sickle that will bring down our father, Uranus. But who will wield it?"

But the other children of Uranus and Gaea were silent, only the youngest of titans, the fair-haired Chronus, said finally:

"I. I will take it."

And so the first Cyclops-blacksmiths began to forge the sickle from the adamantium. Sparks and shards of metal spread from their first forge throughout Tartarus. All-seeing Night, Nyx the Dark looked at this deed, smiling her mocking smile, and she breathed upon these sparks and shards, and from them the other Cyclops, smaller and weaker than their three forefathers (but looking just like them), came to be, and from the smoke and the stench Erebus, the eternal gloom of Tartarus, was born.

The Cyclops, children of Gaea and Uranus, worked long and worked hard. Their children – the lesser Cyclops – aided and assisted them. Their brothers and sisters looked at this in wonder and marvelled, only the young titan, Chronus, looked at the creation of the lesser Cyclops with envy, since he did not know how to create as the Cyclops did. But no one saw this, only Nyx the Dark, herself invisible and inaudible, saw this - and she stayed silent.

And the Cyclops finished their creation, and with a bow they gave to it to Chronus. Chronus took it silently - and his face was gloomier than the face of Erebus, and he went upward from Tartarus. Rocks lay in heaps on his way - Chronus cut them with his sickle, and the first avalanches fell upon Mother Earth. Tangles of everlasting roots blocked his path – Chronus cut through them with his sickle, and the first dead trees fell onto Mother Earth. Paths of underground rivers lay in his paths – Chronus cut through them with his sickle, and rivers dried out on Mother Earth, and the first drought came forth into the world.

And Chronus came into the middle-world, he straightened out to his full, titanic height, he yelled with the full power of his voice, calling their father to battle. And Uranus frowned, and daylight faded, and thunderstorms and blizzards, winds, storms and clouds, came to battle with Chronus. But Chronus swung his sickle once, cutting the foul weather apart with it, and Chronus waved his sickle twice - and the first rainbow was born into the world, blood of Uranus was spilled, straight from his cloven body, and his blood came into the middle-world.

This blood fell into Pontus the Sea, and white foam boiled in the sea, and from it came the fair Aphrodite, the powerful goddess of love. She danced on the waves of the sea – and the first love came into the world.

This blood fell onto Mother Earth, and Mother- Earth conceived from Uranus for the last time: she gave birth to nymphs - dryads, hamadryads, and all the others, and she gave birth to giants, the last, passionate theomachists, she it gave birth to three Furies, three winged virgins, Aphrodite's terrible sisters.

And some of Uranus' blood was spilled into Tartarus - but at that time from there emerged powerful titans, and beautiful titanesses, and here they beheld Aphrodite's wonderful dance, and blood boiled in them from desire, and blood boiled from desire in Chronus. But his blood was poisoned by his envy, and he waved his sickle – Mother Earth, Gaea, shuddered, and the exit from Tartarus was brought down - neither the powerful hecatoncheires nor the artful smiths the Cyclops could leave from there. And Mother Earth said to three Furies:

"You there fly there, I do not know where, and you bring here Nemesis!"

The Furies flew unseen and unnoticed by the celebrating titans; the Furies flew to the western edge of the middle-earth, there, where the kingdom of Night was located. And they exclaimed in loud voices:

"Mother Dark Night, you release Nemesis into our world!"

Nyx the Night said nothing to them, but only smiled. And the Furies exclaimed once again:

"Mother Dark Night, release Nemesis to help us!"

Nyx the Night still said nothing, only smiled. And the Furies exclaimed for the third time:

"Mother Dark Night, by the command of Mother Earth, release Nemesis to aid us – to punish perfidious Chronus!"

Nyx the night smiled for the third time, she only clapped her palms - Nemesis, the daughter of Night from the blood of Uranus that was spilled into Tartarus, came to the edge of the world. And then Nemesis flapped her eagle wings, she flew after the three sisters to the middle-earth.

And there was a celebratory feast – as wide as the entire world. Aphrodite-Love was dancing throughout the entire world, wherever she only looked, wherever she would just flap her fair wing, [new, unprecedented life came to be – the oceanids and the nereids, the phaeacans and the centaurs, the satyrs and the fauns, the tree-folk, Lapiths, and the Amazons, and many, many others. Yet, as titanesses and titans danced Aphrodite's dance, they too gave birth to many new other titans - Helios and Selene, Astraia and Eos, and many, many others.

Chronus danced, and he danced with his sister Rhea, the favorite of their mother Gaea. But, invisible, Nemesis-Retribution flew by him in the guise of a cuckoo; she sat on a hill before Chronus and cried:

"Chronus, Chronus, you are powerful, you rise above the clouds, as the head of Uranus fell off, so will yours!"

Chronus shook and the Furies were already here as well! Sister Alecto was disguised as an eagle owl, she sat on the left side of the titans, and she started to bellow:

"Hoo, hoo, boo, boo! All earthly is only dust and ashes! You were carried upwards by wind, by wind you will fall back into Tartarus, hoo!"

Sister of Megara was disguised as a black raven, she sat on the right side of the titan and she cawed:

"Caw, caw you have a flaw! You conquered Uranus, and before long your son will conquer you, caw!"

Sister Tisiphone was disguised as a black woodpecker; she sat on top of Chronus' head and began to drum it! The titan's mind grew dark, and fear with envy boiled in his veins, darkened his eyes, yet alas - no one saw this, no one heard it: Aphrodite of the sea, the white swan, has blocked everyone's ears, covered everyone's eyes!

And Chronus, the conqueror of Uranus, went mad. And here Rhea came to show him their eldest daughter – Chronus swallowed her. Afterward he swallowed their other children, two sons and two other daughters. And a third son was born to Rhea. And here to her came the whisper:

"Rhea, you can keep your last child! Hide him on Crete, in the mountains of Gaea with their ancient magic! You can ask the local nymphs, the nurses of the Curetes, for aid! Take care to save your last child from Chronus!"

And Rhea listened to that whisper, and she heeded this whisper's advice. Maybe, it was indeed a whisper of Mother Earth, who wanted to help her favorite, and possibly that it was the whisper of Nemesis. But Rhea obeyed that whisper, and she hid her last child in the Cretan mountains, and to her husband she gave a fake, a stone covered in diapers - and no one saw that, dark night has hid that, and Chronus then fell asleep, tired, contented.

But people say that Nemesis, in the guise of a swallow, flew away from Chronus' palace, she flew off and came to the cave of Zeus, son of Chronus and Rhea, grandson of Uranus and Gaea. Was that so or not - no one knows, but Zeus, son of Chronus, grew in his cave not at a daily, but an hourly rate. And after growing up, he said:

"Not for a son of Chronus to sit like a rock in the cave – time for me to go and meet my father –Chronus, to look at other gods, to show off myself."

He said that - and disappeared, dissolved in the dark blue of the Cretan skies. But soon a new cupbearer appeared in Chronus' palace, ever smiling, with locks as white as clouds and with eyes the color of celestial dark blue. With a white-toothed smile he gave wine to the guests of Chronus, to titanesses and to titans, and he reached Chronus as well. Recklessly did the titan drink the dark wine – and trembling with his entire body he spat - and spat the stone out. The stone was spat far away – it flew through one-half of the world, it fell accurately into the world's middle, and came right through the middle-world: it went through Hades, the land of the dead, and the dark Tartarus, and this stone, Omphalos, the navel of the world, reached even the great Abyss!

And Chronus, maddened by Nemesis and the three Furies, drank again. Trembling with his entire body - he spat out two of his eldest sons, Poseidon and Hades. They landed flew away – Hades landed in the land of the dead, Poseidon – in the realm of Nereus, the ocean.

And the madman finished drinking the remainders of that cup. His innards shuddered, he spat out his daughters, he collapsed in unconsciousness - and off his arms and his head departed the Furies, the dark birds, they circled once around him, and following Nemesis, they left the palace. And therefore no one saw the fall of the daughters of Chronus. Of Demeter as she fell among clear and wide fields of wheat, of Hestia - into the burning center of the palace, of Hera - straight in arms of Zeus.

The mighty son of Chronus, Zeus, grabbed Hera tightly, and from that unexpected weight he stamped his foot - throughout the world that rumble was heard, it reached even the underworld. The powerful hecatoncheires were roused by that rumble, their hands rose as numerous as rivers, and they cleared their way from Tartarus, created by Omphalos! They went into the light, and after them came their brothers the Cyclops, the blacksmiths of underground world, and they brought their nephews their gifts.

To the eldest son, to Hades, came the helmet of the invisibility: whoever bears this helmet is invisible to the gods, and people, and monsters. To the middle son, to Poseidon, came the trident, the cold lightning: the trident goes to one side - sea will boil with storms, and if it goes another side - the calm will fall onto the sea. But to the youngest son, to Zeus, son of Chronus, came the royal sceptre – the deafening thunderbolt, intolerable for all in the terrestrial and celestial worlds. Only the subterranean Cyclops and the powerful hecantocheires, only Nyx the night and Erebus the gloom do not fear it.

And Zeus waved the thunderbolt and Chronus fell from his mountain palace, his brothers, who fled from his palace, were brought down further along the road as Chronus fell downwards. Once more rose the hands of the hecatoncheires, they grabbed their brothers the titans, they took away them down into Tartarus - to the end of time, with the songs of Nemesis-Retribution singing in their ears: "What you reap is what you sow!"

Three times then flew Nemesis in the guise of cuckoo around Zeus and Hera. At their feet, then grew a copper tree with silver leaves and gold apples - whether Gaea, Mother Earth grew it, or whether the Cyclops had tried once again. Zeus the hero accepted this miracle-tree as his and Hera's gift. And people said, that before their wedding night Hera ate one such apple - and from her union with Zeus came Hephaestus, the first blacksmith and the expert of all the ores, and Ares, the first soldier, who sent numerous souls to uncle Hades into the land of the Dead, and Eris, the goddess of Discord. But that is another tale...


	51. An animal fairy tale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just an animal-based fairy tale.

The puma was back. Well, technically, he’s never gone away, we just went our separate paths, but now he was back, and at a worst time for everyone too.

“Do you like venison?” He asked as I approached to confront him, flat-footing me completely. Didn’t know that he had in him.

“What are you talking about?” I blinked. “The pampas deer aren’t worth our time, and the pudu- even more so...”

“I am talking about the red deer-“

“Never heard about them.”

“Yes - humans didn’t bring them to the jungle just yet...”

“Oh,” I grimaced. “One of _those_ -“

“Yes! Really big and strong, and of their stags started to harass me, and he brought a posse, and he’s driving me away-“

“And how do _I_ fit in?” I couldn’t help but to ask.

“He is in _your_ weight bracket!” The puma snapped, even as we began to descend from my family’s hideout. “Can’t you try him for size-?” He fell silent as I glared at him, and then I saw the stags. Much bigger and stronger than the pampas deer, and yes, their antlers looked capable of inflicting serious damage - great bony masses of prongs and spikes. Their legs also looked strong, and their hooves - solid and sharp.

“And who are you? What are you?” Their Apparent leader Asked, trying to sound in charge, but with a clear note of concern as well. The rest of his party, the 3 other deer stags, looked even more uneasy.

“I am from the North, and what are you doing here, harassing my neighbour?” I flicked my tail in the puma’s direction.

“My lady-love sent me here to teach him a lesson- not to mess with us!” Their leader brayed again. For a wild male in his prime, he certainly sounded like one of the domestic donkeys. “Me and my friends will drive him away, will drive _you_ away, if you interfere! There’s no one-“

“Humans with guns and traps,” I said quietly, startling the stag leader into silence. 

“They don’t come here very often, this is a national park, we all have to get along,” one of the other stags said quietly, as they carefully backed away from their leader.

I flicked my tail in the puma’s direction. “Don’t Care!” Their leader proclaimed once more, actually moving forward. Me and mine, we certainly weren’t at home any more. “Both of you be gone!” He lowered his head, stabbing forwards with his antlers... or at least that was the plan, before my own Forepaws and claws Slammed into his head, stunning him, and subduing him for me to bite through his skulls, long spiny antlers or not. It was over.

I shifted my grasp on the corpse and carried it home. The other stags didn’t try to stop me.

***

“That was amazing!” Unfortunately, the puma didn’t leave - just what was his issue? Before he could continue, however, we’ve arrived, and I dropped the carcass, just in time, as my partner finally looked out, looking exhausted. Upon seeing the somewhat strange-looking meal, she gave me a tired and grateful smile, tore off a haunch, and dragged it in.

“Um,” the puma said.

“My partner. Gave birth to our next litter. Exhausted and hungry. Wait until you have your own,” I shrugged as I lay down to rest, (and to let our daughter from the previous litter play with my tail. Don’t judge me).

The puma still didn’t leave. “Humans with guns?” He asked instead, as he lay next to us.

“Me and mine will be leaving soon - you pumas can live anywhere, but us jaguars don’t do cold,” he actually asked a good question.

“Can I come with you? There aren’t any pumas here , but me and One-Eye, and he’s crazy ever since he lost it!”

I just looked at him. “We’ll see.”

TBC?


	52. Brainstealer Dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yet another write-up of a D&D (3.5 ed) dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see the previous chapters.

BRAINSTEALER DRAGONS

Brainstealer dragons are little known, enigmatic, and deadly. Rarely, if ever, seen on the surface, they seek power most of all, and are known little to other races – and even to most of the gods. Most are cold, calculating, and appear to be almost mechanical in their approach to life and its pleasures, but some have a cruel, sadistic, unpredictable streak in their character instead.

Brainstealer dragons prefer to dwell deep underground, away from the other dragon races. They only come in contact with one other dragon species – the deep dragons. For reasons unknown to anyone other than the brainstealer and the deep dragons, the two races abhor each other on sight; as soon as one becomes aware of the other, he or she does their best to kill the other dragon for good, or die trying.

Brainstealer dragons sometimes come into contact with the shadow dragons. Conniving, as well as rather small and cowardly by the dragon measure of things, the shadow dragons usually submit to the brainstealers and do their bidding, often profiting from the brainstealer's superior plots, even though they also betray their allies as soon as the tide turns against them.

Brainstealer dragons make their lairs in underground caves. Usually, such caves are natural occurrences, but sometimes the brainstealer dragons enslave other beings using their psionic powers and make them dig-out a spacious subterranean chamber instead. If the cavern was made by nature, it often may have water, running or not, in it: the brainstealer dragons like to wet their hides in cold underground waters as well as hunt for small cave fish, crayfish and salamanders that live there. If the chamber is artificial, there may not be water, but there won't be any other distinguishing features either: the brainstealer dragons often consider art and artworks as frivolous and useless pursuits of the mind and ignore them in favour of practicality.

**Brainstealer Dragon Identifiers**

Brainstealer dragons are poor fliers at best (and clumsy at worst), their small wings all but useless in the air and downright useless as weapons (unlike the other dragons).

A brainstealer dragon's head ends in four long and rubbery tentacles that can reach to a great length in the older specimens. It lacks jaws per se (and thus it lacks a proper bite attack as well), but hidden in the tentacles is its' mouth – a round opening lined with grinding teeth and a simple tongue.

A brainstealer dragon doesn't have any horns, ridges, or frills on its body: this creature is smooth and streamlined, and can squeeze its great, albeit rubbery, bulk through cracks and crevices that appear far too small and uncomfortable for this being to dwell in.

At birth, a brainstealer dragon's scales are pale purple in colour. As the dragon ages, its scales darken in shade, until they develop a plum-like colour by the young adult stage. A very old brainstealer dragon appears to be almost black in colour. A brainstealer dragon's eyes are great white and lidless orbs, often luminous in a great wyrm or older.

Brainstealer dragons have a strong, unpleasant, acidic odour.

Brainstealer dragons' wings are little more than fleshy layers of skin, almost useless for flying. They are supported by a trio of phalanges and an upper alar limb, as the wings of other winged dragons are, but these bones are relatively thin, weak and fragile, unable to support the brain-stealer dragon's bulk in the air for too long. (That may be another reason why brainstealer dragons almost never come to the surface.)

By contrast, both the deep dragon and the shadow dragon, which may come into contact with the brainstealer dragon have large, well-developed wings and are decent flyers – a fact that they often use when fighting a brainstealer dragon for territory or for power.

**Habits**

A brainstealer dragon's manipulative nature forces it to seek out other creatures – due to its large size and distinctive appearance, it often needs proxies to carry out the more delicate parts of its plans. Consequently, a brainstealer dragon is often found surrounding by minions and reluctant or unwilling allies, as well as such things as astral constructs that do its bidding (and fighting) for it.

Curiously, one creature that brainstealer dragons don't try to enslave or overpower is each other. Cold, dry and dispassionate, the brainstealer dragons treat each other with politeness and courtesy, firmly determining the reach of each other's territory and its borders, and adhering to them completely. They rarely, if ever, form alliances, save for too powerful enemies (a drow or an illithid city or a non-brainstealer dragon), but they never become enemies either.

It is little known about brainstealer dragon's courtship and egg-laying, and the existing sources tend to contradict each other. Basically, two brainstealer dragons get together to lay their eggs, but only one - the female - guards the laid clutch. However, some sources claim that the male stays in contact with the mother of his offspring via psionic powers and will readily come to her aid if she and her clutch end up in danger.

Brainstealer dragons are not picky eaters, though they prefer to eat brains of other creatures first and foremost. (Hence their name, of course.) If brains are scarce or insufficient to sake their hunger, the brainstealer dragons will eat the rest of the body, or anything else, no matter how small, big, or brainless – their powerful stomach acids will dissolve anything. Unlike other dragons, though, they prefer not to eat inorganic foods, since their teeth are too small and weak to effectively grind such meals into bite-sized pieces. (If, however, dealing with coins, or gems, or similar objects, small enough to be swallowed whole without chewing, the brainstealer dragon will eat them with minimum hesitation, of course.) However, they are not particularly voracious, and may go for months without food, until they feel hungry enough to hunt or to eat their own minions.

When building hoards, brainstealer dragons prefer coins and gems to objects of art and jewellery. Unlike most other dragons, they are not particularly possessive and may give away parts of their hoard to be used to further their goals. However, they also expect their allies and minions to share this attitude and to give away their look or earnings to further the brainstealer dragon's goals as well.

In combat, a brainstealer dragon – especially a relatively young and small one – is at a disadvan-tage when compared with other dragons. It has neither bite nor wing attacks, and prefers to attack its foes from an ambush, using its powerful mind blast weapon to stun its foes into submissiveness, before lashing out with its tentacles to begin extracting their brains.

However, a brainstealer dragon is also a powerful psion (sometimes even taking ranks in that class to augment its natural powers), and often spends a lot of time on developing strategies aimed to use these powers – both natural and learned – to the dragon's best advantage. An adventurers' party that came unprepared for such psionic attacks (the brainstealer dragon tends to favour the telepath's path) will likely to end up as food for the dragon instead, their brains extracted to feed the dragon's hunger.

(Brainstealer dragon first appeared in _Dragon magazine No 337_.)


	53. Styx dragon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A write-up of yet another D&D 3.5 ed dragon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

**STYX DRAGONS**

Styx dragons are bizarre, grotesque-looking creatures that in many ways appear to resemble sea serpents and linnorms of the Material Plane than dragons, either planar or not. Contrary to their serpent-like appearance, however, these creatures are capable of moving on land just as quickly as they can move through the water, but despite possessing small wings, they cannot fly, and prefer to live (and hunt) under water, rather than on land.

Styx dragons prefer to make lairs themselves, by digging deep burrows in the banks of the river Styx, where they primarily live. Although the Styx dragons are aquatic, they are decent burrowers, and often throughout their lifetimes, they make long, complex lairs in which they live and store treasure, unlike their main rivals, the Styx linnorms.

**Styx Dragon Identifiers**

A Styx dragon has a long, snake-like body with a beak-like head, a pair of small, but powerful forelimbs, a pair of vestigial wings and twin tails that trail behind. A Styx linnorm, on the other hand, lacks wings altogether, and it possesses only a single tail, just as the other linnorms do. It is also relatively shorter and stockier than the Styx dragon, especially the older ones.

A Styx dragon's head ends in rather beak-like jaws full of rather small (for a dragon), uniform-shaped teeth with which this dragon bites its prey neatly into pieces: these teeth are as sharp as sword blades or spear tips. It also has a long, fin-like crest throughout its body length (gradually shrinking and vanishing at the beginning of its tails), as well as a pair of horns growing on each side of its head.

A Styx dragon lacks hind limbs altogether, just as the linnorms do; the only other planar dragon that has a similar body plan is the Styx dragon's good counterpart, the Oceanus dragon, but the two cousins rarely, if ever meet, and moreover the Oceanus dragons lacks forelimbs as well, plus its head is anything but beak-like.

A Styx dragon smells of dirt, decomposing flesh and disease – in short, it smells the same as the waters of river Styx itself.

Its twin tails (no other dragon, except for the fang dragon has twin tails, and the fang dragon doesn't look anything like the Styx dragon) are long, sinuous blades, rather like the whip-daggers used by exotic weapon masters and various cultists. When hunting rather than fighting, the Styx dragon often uses its tails to wrap them around its prey and drag it underwater, to finish the latter at the dragon's leisure.

A hatchling Styx dragon has scales of a dark, dull brown colour. As the dragon ages, its scales brighten in colour until they become rusty red in the older wyrms. The Styx dragon's eyes are always glowing with a lurid yellow light and so their true colour is unknown.

**Habits**

Styx dragons eat anything that they come across in the waters of the Lower Planes, especially various fiends with whom they fight for territory. Often, after killing its prey, the dragon lets it rot to improve the flavour from its point of view.

Styx dragons keep hoards, usually consisting of the possessions of its prey, often of a magical nature. They tend to keep their hoards in a relatively good condition and tend to known what it consists of: a fool-hardy hoard robber of a Styx dragon will earn its enmity and will be likely to be chased by it until one of them dies or the dragon recovers its properly. Only the demon lords and the archdevils are immune from that sort of prosecution, but even they prefer not to get involve with the Styx dragons without a good cause: the Styx dragons have a long memory just as other dragons, and never miss an opportunity for revenge.

Styx dragons are quite territorial, and often mate to mutually expand their hunting ranges. A mated pair of Styx dragon tolerates each other, but each dragon prefers to sleep in a separate chamber, though they often pool their hoard resources together as well.

Female Styx dragons bear clutches only rarely, but both parents take care of their offspring, until they reach the juvenile age, after which they are turned out to take care of themselves.

(This dragon first appeared in 3.5 edition of Draconomicon.)


	54. Different Depictions: Girtablilu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's talk about the scorpion people of RPG, especially the 1E Pathfinder version.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

One of the stranger and less-known sentient races of the world, the girtablilu or the scorpionfolk has little press, either good or bad – and that is not unexpected. Like the other tauric races, they came into the world either via divine wrath or demonic favor; the few texts that mention the scorpionfolk usually involve them being created by dark, chthonic demon-gods as warrior-minions. The demon-gods are gone by now, but the girtablilu had remained, eventually moving away from their initial homeland of Middle East towards the more hospitable land of India and its environs.

A girtablilu is an impressive sight. An average member of this race can easily reach 4 m in length and weigh over 300 kg, though there are sightings of particularly powerful girtablilus that are even larger than this. This is comparable with some of the other tauric races, such as the centaur of the southern Europe and the Balkans, who is often lumped or paired with the girtablilu (but only in textbooks) as some sort of a European counterpart to the latter. This is done largely because while from the waist down the girtablilu looks like a giant scorpion, from the waist up, they look rather human-like, not unlike the aforementioned centaurs. This similarity, however, is superficial – for while the centaur women feed their children with milk just as human women do, the girtablilus do not: their babies are born already much more mobile and independent than the human children are, and from the moment they are born, they can feed on whatever their parents and their tribe are feeding, albeit shredded and mulched by their parents at first.

...Of course, the centaur children too become more mobile and independent than their human counterpart do, but they still grow at a slower pace than the scorpionfolk young do, and like the humans, they do not shed their skins. The scorpionfolk do: although from the waist up they look human (though they do miss nipples on their breasts), they do not have any bones, but instead rely on their exoskeleton, just as the scorpions, which are often found alongside their distant, and greater, kin, do.

The scorpions are something else, yet again. The girtablilu can communicate with them, not unlike how the druids and similar specialists can communicate with birds of the air and beasts of the field, but unlike them, the girtablilus’ gift extends to scorpions alone, though some of the scorpionfolk become very adept with the vermin in question, and use them as attack dogs or guardians for their tribe. Mindless, or nearly so, sneaky if small and tough and resilient if large, scorpions can be powerful allies, especially if their girtablilu handlers are there to help them co-ordinate their attacks.

By themselves, the girtablilus are even more formidable, combining the physical prowess of the aforementioned scorpions with human intellects; even if left to their own devices, the girtablilus tend to begin to form relatively solid societies, they begin to make both weapons and various utilities, and they clearly care for each other, for their children, and for their scorpion pets. Sadly, they are more reserved towards other races, though in history of India the scorpionfolk had often battled alongside their human neighbors, utilizing sword and dagger, whip and chakram to powerful effects, and they had no problems in learning how to use firearms as well. Their bodies may be large and powerful, but they are also dexterous and maneuverable: the girtablilus cannot run as fast, as, say, the centaurs, but they have very quick reflexes and can dodge faster than one would expect from beings of their size and bulk.

As for their racial history, the scorpionfolk generally do not divulge much. They claim to have been brought forth as servants of gods, both bright and dark, but claim that some time shortly after the Great Flood their masters vanished as such, and the girtablilus were free to be their own people – and they did so by moving eastwards, by finding their new homeland in India.

It is generally not hidden that at first the new arrivals were cared little about and mistrusted by the native races of the peninsula, but the girtablilus were tough but not deliberately cruel; aloof, but not unreasonable, and quite willing to be hired both as mercenaries and otherwise, so eventually, by the sixth century or so the girtablilus became a part of the Hindu society, and often served as negotiators between the peninsula other natives and the ‘outsiders’, especially the sphinxes, who often found the scorpionfolk to be more reasonable and level-headed than humans were. Of course, it did not mean that the sphinxes disliked dealing with humans as they spread to south Asia; in fact, this is one of their current concentrations of population, but all the same the fact is that the humans, the scorpionfolk and the sphinxes have a very complex relationship in that part of the world.

Elsewhere it is more straightforward: most humans (and similar races) tend to be wary towards the girtablilus, who often prefer to live on their own. Their body shape makes it hard for them to fit into the modern society...except in India and Southeast Asia, where the sight of scorpionfolk going sideways via walls to avoid the worst of the crowds on the streets is a common sight. The girtablilus have become a part of the modern society after all, and for the moment they are quite content with their share.

_The girtablilu first appeared in Pathfinder Bestiary 3._


	55. Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, something completely different.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: there are no characters here, mine or otherwise.

In the dark, silent Sheol  
Lies the race of Nephilim,  
They shan't climb up a wall,  
They do sleep, but do not dream.

Their memory is at the gate,  
It does stand, it doesn't lie.  
It will wait at any rate -  
An hour, year - the Lord will decry.

In the black underground desert  
Deceased caravans lie and sleep.  
And eternal strongholds do stand in lieu of a dessert,  
Like eyes in forgotten countries they peep.


End file.
